


Happy is Inevitable

by deadgranger



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Community: HPFT, Drama, Emma swears a lot, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, definitely some ptsd here folks, editing whats that, maybe smut, pay attention to the chapter titles folks, post-Inevitable, they all live okay, trying to end the apotheosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-02-09 07:46:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 42,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18633868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadgranger/pseuds/deadgranger
Summary: Somehow Emma is saved from the Hive at the end of "Inevitable" and is taken far away from the Clivesdale Hospital by none other than the man she thought she knew before he started singing. Paul had saved her. Will they make it and be able to rescue all of their friends?





	1. Inevitable

“The Apotheosis is upon us!” Paul declared, leaning menacingly over her.

The rest of them joined in, reaching for her as they ended the song. Emma screamed, afraid of what she’d become if she was killed and joined the Hive. But when the song ended, she wasn’t dead, or a part of their shitty musical. They’d all joined hands instead and were bowing as if in front of an audience. She looked away from their dead eyes, and out of the room, only to find a hundred people clapping and cheering in front of her.

Emma knew this was her only chance to get away, so she hauled herself up and solicited help from these newfound audience members. None of them would help her, though, too caught up in it to realize it was actual reality, not a fucking musical. She was torn away from a woman by Ted and Paul screaming and fighting all the way out of the room until her leg gave out. As the door swung shut behind her boss, the sounds of clapping and cheers disappeared, and Emma was back in the hospital, being dragged down the hallway. 

“Let go of me!” she yelled, struggling in Ted and Paul’s vice-like grip. They ignored her struggling as much as they could, Ted’s height being more favorable than Paul’s in restraining her, but nevertheless she couldn’t break free. She couldn’t see where they were taking her, only where they had been; a small trail of blood was being left behind from her leg wound reopening in her struggles and bleeding through her bandages.

Nora and Emma’s nurse opened the door to a cramped, dim room, letting Ted and Paul in while they remained outside with the others. The two of them tossed Emma none-too-gently to the floor, probably knowing she was too weak to try and escape. Ted left, joining the song happening outside of the room with Bill, Mr. Davidson, Professor Hidgens, and the two women, leaving just Emma and Paul.

“Paul?” Emma asked tentatively. She tamped down any hope she had of him still being the Paul she knew, the Paul who didn’t like musicals, _her_ Paul.  

He stayed silent, but there was a maniacal look in his eyes, turning them bluer than they naturally were. A frown appeared on his face. “Why won’t you join us, Emma? Why won’t you let me take all your pain and fear away?” he asked, kneeling down and leaning towards her. 

“Because you’re going to fucking kill me, that’s why!” she shouted, shoving him away.

Paul looked hurt at her words. “I could never kill you, Emma.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Emma replied, scooting away from him as fast as she could.

“One day, you will,” he said in a low tone, eyes suddenly unreadable.

Emma stared in horror as he brought out the gun he’d taken back from Ted. She closed her eyes, refusing to watch as the man she thought she’d known shot her. A loud thump, and she was out cold, knocked out by a strong swing of Paul’s hand with the gun. She lay limp in his arms as he carried her out of the room, singing along with his comrades as they exited the hospital in Clivesdale to spread the song. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A throbbing in her right leg brought Emma back to consciousness. Unfamiliar surroundings had her on immediate high alert, swiveling to see who else was with her. There was no one. No one, that is, except for Paul. She looked around the room, noticing she was lying on a shitty couch with an overturned coffee table next to it and an armchair in which Paul sat with a concerned expression directed at her. Emma sat up slowly, gingerly moving her injured leg into a better position.

“Where are we?” she asked. 

“Safe,” Paul answered.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Emma’s voice cracked, as her fear came roaring back in full force. Tears began streaming down her face of their own accord. “You’ve fucking captured me, you piece of shit alien in Paul’s body!”

Paul didn’t react to her outburst. He just looked and looked and looked at her in silence, giving nothing away about his feelings on the matter.

“Tell me where the fuck we are! Why don’t I hear any singing?” Emma asked again with more force as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. 

“Safe,” he said again.

He got up from his seat and kneeled next to her, even as she retreated as far as she could on the couch. “I’m still the man you trust, Emma,” he said, unable to resist the melodic tone he’d sang those words in the day prior.

Emma recoiled from his outreached hand and snarled, “Don’t fucking touch me!" 

Paul’s eyebrows shot up at her fury. “Why won’t you join me, Emma? We can be happy, together, if only you would join me. Don’t you want to see me happy?”

She couldn’t respond to that question, no, that _lyric_ Paul had spoken in a lilting tone. Curling up as best she could without hurting her leg, she put her hands over her ears and did her best to drown him out. “He’s not Paul, he’s not Paul, he’s not Paul,” she chanted as if it would make him disappear. Exhaustion won out eventually, and she passed out again.

He frowned, not sure why he’d upset her with his truth. The Hive was humming in his mind, begging him to join in their song so they could find him and bring him home. He was happy with the Hive, feeling no pain, no need to eat or sleep, and singing and dancing all of the time. When he tried to blow up the meteor, most of it did blow up, but a quarter of it remained. The spores by then had nearly completed their work in his body, turning him into one of the Hive members and making him sing and dance, all the shit he hated as a human, and the small part of him that still was human hid away from it all. 

It was purely luck that he didn’t speak at all while in recovery at the Clivesdale hospital, or he would have been found out. The Hive was fragmented in his mind from the shattering of their basebrain, and didn’t have any instructions for him. When Colonel Shaffer had cleared him for release, he almost didn’t want to be cleared. The part of him that was still human fought to control his body and start singing, dancing, anything, to alert PEIP that he wasn’t cleared to return to human society, that he was still harboring alien spores.

Paul shook his head. Sure, he hated musicals because they made him uncomfortable. The Hive, though, they’d shown him an entirely different viewpoint. Were they completely wrong? Had he been hating something for fifteen years because of a shitty high school production he’d seen as a teenager? Hating musicals because of the sleeping woman lying in front of him? 

No, he hated them because they cheapened storylines and characterization in favor of dramatic singing and dancing to get a point across in a much less efficient manner. Yes, that was why he didn’t like musicals. Paul still hated musicals, no matter if alien spores had invaded his mind and body and forced him to join their shitty production of the world in Hatchetfield. 

As that thought materialized, Paul felt pain rock his chest, as if his body were rebelling at these blasphemous feelings. The Hive attacked his mind with their overwhelming harmonies. He collapsed to the floor, screaming in agony at the battle waging in his head.

Emma jerked awake, eyes immediately going to Paul writhing on the floor. She moved to the floor next to him, hands hovering above him in uncertainty. 

“Paul? Paul!” she tried to shake him out of it, but his screams simply went up a pitch to unbearably loud.

“HEY, PAUL!” Emma shouted, slapping him across the face as hard as she could.

Her palm connected loudly with his cheek, sending blue-tinged spittle flying across the room. He fell silent and crumpled in on himself, chest heaving as he took in air.

“Paul?” Emma asked tentatively.

He opened his eyes slowly, finding Emma’s. His eyes were his regular shade of pale blue. Emma sighed with relief. Maybe they were safe from the Hive for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone this is my first TGWDLM fic so I hope you like it and please let me know your thoughts! I'm thinking this will be about 10-15k in length and about 8-10 chapters. 
> 
> ~Madi


	2. Let It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering and talking and singing and dancing with Paul and Emma.

Emma woke up to the sun streaming into the room, casting everything in a golden glow as it rose above the horizon. Clearly she’d slept all through the night then after comforting Paul after his panic attack. She looked over at him, asleep and slumped in the armchair. Not wanting to disturb him, Emma rose as quietly as she could with her injured leg and went to the window to get her bearings. They were several floors up in some sort of apartment complex on the edge of town, although which town that was was still undetermined. The sun shining seemed out of place to Emma considering the shitstorm that had enveloped and destroyed Hatchetfield literally less than seventy-two hours ago. Her throbbing leg was indication of that.

Turning her attention back inside, she saw several doors leading off from what was the combined living room and kitchen of this apartment Paul had brought them to and took a guess at a door. She was lucky and found the bathroom on the first try. Opening the medicine cabinet, she searched for some sort of painkiller stronger than aspirin, but settled with it after her brief search resulted in a giant bottle of aspirin and a nearly empty bottle of antibiotics for something being found. Whoever had lived here obviously didn’t have many issues with pain. 

When she returned to the living room, Paul was sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His face brightened when he saw her up and about, but he kept his eyes guarded. Emma perched on the arm of the couch. 

“Hey Paul, do you feel like singing?” she asked. 

Paul cleared his throat. “Um, would you be mad if I said yes?” 

Emma leaned away from him on the couch, bracing for a musical outburst. 

He reached out towards her before restraining himself. “It’s not like it was in the hospital, though. The Hive is, fainter, in my head now. They keep wanting me to join them but I can’t find them anymore, it’s like my GPS isn’t working,” he explained. 

“Their song is still echoing in my mind but I can’t quite match my harmonies. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I join them again? Why won’t they come fetch me?” Infected!Paul came out in his voice, his eyes flashing electric blue. “Emma, I’m sorry!” 

She knew that phrase; she hated it; she feared it. Tensing on the couch, she looked over to the kitchen area, searching for something, anything, that would be within easy reach she could use as a weapon if needed to protect herself. Turning her attention back to Paul, she saw that he had gotten incredibly pale in the last thirty seconds. 

“Paul, are you okay?”

Paul gripped the armchair tightly, his knuckles turning white as he fought the song building in his head. The Hive was clawing tooth and nail to make him rejoin them, but damn if he wasn’t going to go easily. Emma could only watch in horror as he fought. Out of tune notes and fragmented lyrics poured out of Paul’s mouth, blue-tinged spit flying everywhere. 

“Duck is lord! Your wagon is on fire! You gotta get up gotta get back get back up!” Paul sang, shaking his head in earnest to fight the music even as his feet began tapping to a rhythm Emma couldn’t hear. 

“Paul!” Emma shrieked as his head shot up and stared at her with menacing ice-blue eyes and a crazy grin. She retreated, putting the couch between them. Paul rose from the chair but his right knee gave way as soon as he was vertical, and he fell to the floor. He was back up in an instant, though, head tilted and mouth open. 

“We got work to do, Emma,” Paul sang, doing a perfectly choreographed dance with swaying hips and arm movements as he stepped closer to Emma. “Join us, Emma!” 

Emma shrank from him, frantically looking for a possible exit to which she could beat Paul. A flash of light reflecting off of something in the kitchen caught her eye. In the utensil stand among various wooden spoons was a metal rolling pin.  _ Perfect _ . 

Paul was still singing random lyrics, still trying to find his pitch and harmony within the Hive. Emma took this as her chance and darted over to the counter and grabbed the rolling pin. She brandished it like a sword as Paul turned towards her new location. 

“What the fuck? Ouch my head! What the fuck? Look out!” Paul was screaming now, voice increasing in pitch as his eyes went even wider and his skin paler, blue veins pulsing just underneath. 

His singing became more and more garbled and to Emma he looked on the verge of a breakdown if she didn’t know better. He collapsed to his knees, hands over his ears, his eyes and mouth firmly shut. Emma kept her position, the rolling pin still held out in front of her as if she’d actually use it against him if he attacked her. The sudden silence was eerie, and she wasn’t about to get surprised. Paul looked up at her, his eyes his normal shade of blue. 

A strangled noise escaped his lips. “Please, Emma,” he whispered, hoarse, nodding his head towards the rolling pin in her hand. “Just do it, okay?”

Her eyes widened at his implication. Knocking him out with the rolling pin and hoping that stopped him singing and dancing wasn’t Emma’s original plan for this, but it was her only plan now. A tear escaped her eye as she swung the metal bar at his head, a solid thwack indicating she’d hit her target. He went down with a loud thump, his face smushed into the carpet. Emma dropped the rolling pin, careful of the blue-tinged spit still on it, and knelt down in front of the unconscious Paul. 

“Oh Paul,” she whispered, another tear rolling down her cheek as she adjusted his head so he could breathe better. She tenderly brushed a bit of hair out of his eyes. 

He’d saved her from the Hive by taking her to wherever the hell they were but he couldn’t save himself. She’d been the one to tell him to go blow up the fucking meteor at the Starlight, told him to basically sacrifice himself for her under the guise of saving the town and the rest of the world. Even though he’d been turned into the kind of person he absolutely hated, he still had done his best to destroy it and fight off the infection from the spores. 

Emma just hoped there was enough of Paul left in his mind to save him, to save them both. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Paul woke up a few hours later with a ringing in his ears and a pounding headache. He grunted and put a hand to his head, massaging his temple. Propping himself up on his other elbow, he opened his eyes further. His vision swam as he moved too quickly to see the person standing in front of him, and he collapsed back onto the couch. 

“Take it easy there, Paul,” Emma said, gently patting his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure I gave you a concussion with that rolling pin, and you shouldn’t be moving around too much based on my extremely limited medical knowledge.” 

He groaned again and tried to focus in on Emma’s face. “Thanks for that, by the way.” 

“Don’t be thanking me yet, I don’t know if that actually did anything for you besides concuss you,” she replied. She handed him a few pills and a glass of water, which he downed gratefully. 

“Okay,” Paul said. “Is it good that I’m only hearing ringing in my head now and not any voices?” 

Emma’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what?” 

He cleared his throat. “Yeah okay, so, normally I’d hear the Hive singing in my head, right?” At Emma’s understanding nod, he continued. “Okay. Well now if I try hard I can hear some kind of music in my mind, but it’s like it’s a few rooms away with the doors closed. Like, it’s there, but I can’t sync with the beat. Does that even make any sense, Emma?” 

“I mean, it kinda makes sense to me,” she replied, brows furrowed in thought. “Any urge to sing and dance and violently attack me again like you had three hours ago?”

Paul was surprised by the brutal honesty in Emma’s tone. “Yeah, uh, no, not really, no. Sorry about that, really.” 

She waved her hand dismissively. “Hey, I was prepared for it, alright? I figured it’d probably happen again anyway. Maybe this means you’re getting better, like the infection is going away. I’m glad you’re not feeling them in your mind anymore, it definitely makes me less scared knowing that they can’t just come and find you based on your thoughts.” 

An uncomfortable silence filled the room after that, and Emma wasn’t going to be the one to break it first. She stood from the armchair and went to rummage through the fridge in the kitchen for something to eat that wasn’t expired. Paul leaned back on the couch, head still throbbing. A quiet victory cheer had him raising his head to better see Emma. 

“What’d you find?” he asked. 

“Fruit! Real fucking fruit!” Emma exclaimed, holding up a clear plastic bag of apples. “Damn, whoever lived here clearly got outta Dodge as soon as they could and left their food behind like idiots.” 

The meaning behind that phrase was left hanging in the air, unspoken, yet still lingering like an unwanted ghost. 

While Paul had been unconscious, Emma could have sworn she heard singing coming from a few blocks over, but when she looked outside, there was absolutely no one on the streets. She couldn’t help but think that Paul wasn’t actually getting better and the Hive was lulling them into a false sense of security. Hell, she still didn’t think she could trust the man after all they’d been through, even though he’d saved her from getting infected and kept them safe for well over twenty-four hours now. Something was resisting in her, she couldn’t figure it out, and damn it all if she couldn’t ever figure it out because then she’d be alone, again. 

Emma took out one of the apples and searched around for a cutting board and knife and began cutting up the apple. “Are you hungry, Paul?” 

Paul patted his stomach lightly. Food. He hadn’t eaten since....well, probably since breakfast that morning after the meteor hit Hatchetfield and launched the musical apocalypse. 

“I know that I should be, but I’m not sure what the spores did to me to suppress my appetite,” he replied. “Maybe being separated from the Hive isn’t enough to get the spores out of me.” 

“Nope, we’re not doing this right now, okay? Eat some damn apple slices,” Emma shoved a small bowl of them into his hands, trying to pretend the tremor in her hand wasn’t there. 

“Em, hey. Hey,” Paul said softly, grabbing her free hand lightly to make her look at him. “I’m not going to infect you, I promise. I tried telling you that in the first song I sang to you, but the Hive was controlling my body and twisted my words. I swear on my life that I will never infect you, okay?” 

Her eyes searched his for any trace of deception for an achingly long time. “Okay, I believe you. Now shut up and eat.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief and made an effort to eat his portion of the apple slices. Emma sat on the floor by him, eating her own portion in silence. She cleaned up their dishes after they were done and much to Paul’s surprise settled next to him on the couch, just out of reach. 

She had her bad leg stretched out in front of her, the blood-stained bandages in clear need of changing. 

Paul gestured to her left leg. “Would you like me to change that for you? If you don’t keep it clean it’ll have a higher probability of not healing properly and getting bacteria in it.” 

Emma nodded, exhaustion clear on her face. “I hadn’t even thought of doing that yet. Thanks, Paul.”

Paul got up, slowly, his head still a bit woozy, and made his way to the bathroom to search for something resembling bandages. A quick search under the sink proved successful and he returned with bandaging and wound cleaning items in hand. 

“You may want to brace yourself in case this doesn’t come off clean,” he told her as he rolled his sleeves up. “Ready?” 

“Guess I am,” Emma said. 

He slowly peeled the bandage off, wetting down parts that were particularly stuck and stiff to minimize the pain for Emma. Considering the damage struggling against Ted and Paul had done to her on their way deeper into the Clivesdale Hospital after that medley number, it was a wonder she wasn’t in more pain from her leg. What surprised both of them was the amount of staples still holding the wound together. The surgeons had sewed her thigh up securely after removing the piece of rebar from it, but the entry and exit points on the surface were rather gruesome still. Once the whole bandage was off, Paul gently cleaned her whole thigh with a washcloth soaked in isopropyl alcohol. The repetitive motion was almost soothing for him, and the sticky, dried blood didn’t faze him a bit as he cleaned more and more of it away. 

Finally all of the dried blood was gone, leaving behind two pink, angry, half-healed wounds on either side of Emma’s thigh. Paul got a new washcloth and dipped it in more isopropyl alcohol, cleaning them with more care because of the staples. Emma hissed as the alcohol touched raw skin, and Paul pulled back. 

“No, keep doing what you’re doing otherwise it’ll never get done,” Emma said, voice tight. 

“Okay,” Paul replied. 

He returned to cleaning the wound on the outside of her leg, noticing that it was worse than the other one. A few of the staples were at bad angles, indicating they’d been dislodged some time during the fight and transport out of the hospital. The wound inside her thigh was much cleaner and all the staples were in place as they should be. Paul couldn’t really tell, but he thought he felt Emma tense as he cleaned the wound on her inner thigh. Whatever, he just focused on making sure he’d gotten all of the blood out and the staples were holding steady. 

“Okay, time to wrap it up. Can you lift your leg up a little more, please?” Paul requested. 

Emma obliged, still tense as Paul firmly wrapped her leg up and secured the bandages. 

“How does it feel, is it too tight?” he asked, concerned. 

“No, it’s great, thanks,” Emma answered, bending her leg to demonstrate her mobility was not impacted. 

Paul smiled and heaved himself up to throw away the dirty bandages and put the rest of the supplies away. When he returned to the living room, Emma was sitting on the couch, pensieve. He gingerly sat down next to her, leaving a healthy distance between them, still unsure of his own infection status. The sun was beginning to go down now, casting the room in a dark, red-gold glow. 

They sat in silence, marking the passing time by how much light left the room as the sun slipped further behind the horizon. 

“Why -- how did you save me in the hospital?” she queried, turning to look at him. 

He frowned. “Well, it’s all a bit fuzzy to me now since the Hive isn’t buzzing in my mind all the time. I think with the spores infecting me, I was able to keep part of my consciousness safe from the spores and musical horror. That’s why some of those lyrics I sang to you probably sounded bad; it was me trying to get out from the Hive.”

“I was able to get you out of the hospital by saying I wanted some, uh, privacy with you to get you to join us,” he blushed at this admittance. “They knew how resistive you were to our singing and dancing, so they let me take you outside to the Starbucks across the street from the hospital. I also had trouble speaking to the Hive through my mind, so once we were inside the store I had a mini breakdown and won control of my body but kept up the singing and dancing premise as I ran with you over my shoulder to this apartment complex. I knew that if I let on you weren’t actually infected we’d be double dead, so I forced myself to do that shit until I found this apartment.” 

Emma’s mouth was hanging wide open at this point. “Paul, I, I don’t know what to say.” 

Paul shrugged his shoulders and gave her a small smile. “Some things are just worth it, I guess.” 

She smiled back, eyes flitting down to his mouth and back up to his eyes a couple of times; her decision made, Emma moved closer to him on the couch so that their thighs were touching and she could lean her head on his shoulder. 

“Thank you, Paul. I mean it, too,” Emma murmured. “I wouldn’t want to be saved by anyone else.” 

He let out a light chuckle. “Thanks for saving me too, Em.” 

The sun had set twenty minutes ago, but they were still sitting in the dark pressed against each other like that, afraid of turning on a light and alerting the Hive to their presence. 

Paul shifted first, taking a deep breath in. “Come on, let’s get some sleep, huh?” 

“Yeah, we should probably do that,” Emma laughed. 

“Okay, uh, while this couch is great, I know for a fact this apartment does have a bed in it, which would be infinitely more comfortable for both of us. If you don’t mind sharing a bed, that is,” he reddened at the implication.

Emma’s eyes flashed dark for a second he almost could have mistaken it for a shift in light. “No, I don’t mind at all, Paul. Are there like, clothes too so I can change out of this disgusting uniform?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah there should be something that’ll fit you in the closet,” Paul said, even more uncomfortable. 

Once both of them were changed out of their uniform and suit, they climbed into the queen bed together, Paul more awkward about it than Emma. She fell asleep first, the trials of the day having worn her out significantly more than they had Paul. He lay there looking at her sleeping peacefully for a little while, a feeling growing stronger, taking root, in his heart. Just before he went unconscious, the drumbeat that had been in the back of his mind for the last three days played its final beat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well this ended up turning into a monster of a chapter...oops! But I hope you liked it anyway and please let me know what you think of everything! Did you like the platonic/not-platonic bed-sharing at the end? ;) Well, next chapter isn't going to be all hearts and butterflies, if you know what I mean. We will be seeing some of the other characters make a reappearance though so let me know your theories because I'd love to hear them! :)
> 
> ~Madi


	3. Let Him Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clear and free of mind, but are they really when they venture outside?

Paul was the first to wake up in the morning. The sun wasn’t even coming over the horizon yet, but the first rays of light were peeking through the blinds. Emma had shifted closer to him during the night, so he was careful not to move her as he settled up a bit higher in the bed. He figured if he was awake now that he probably wasn’t going to get back to sleep if the sun was rising.

The first thing he noticed wasn’t the fact that he was in bed with Emma, but rather that he’d actually slept through the night. It relieved him more than it probably should have, considering the circumstances, and that Emma had basically given him a concussion the day before and it was protocol  _ not _ to go to sleep after getting one. The apartment was quiet, the only sound Emma’s soft breathing as she continued sleeping next to him. 

It wasn’t until she stirred in her sleep and curled closer to him that he figured out what else was different today, four days after the meteor struck Hatchetfield and three since he’d been infected with the spores. 

His mind was his, and his alone. 

He didn’t want to wake Emma up though, knowing how much she really needed the sleep so her leg and body could properly heal. Who knew how long they could stay here without being discovered, especially now that his tether to the Hive was maybe officially severed. The Hive could be coming for them right now for all they knew to kill them for good, and all they had was a lousy rolling pin and some kitchen knives for defenses. 

Paul’s heart started racing and he had to take several deep breaths to calm himself down before he spiraled down that path. His shifting must have nudged Emma, though, as she cracked an eye open and coughed lightly. 

“What time is it?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. 

“Sorry, Em, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Paul said. “It’s uh, six forty-five, I think?” 

Emma groaned. “Don’t wake me up for another hour at least, please.” 

“Okay,” he replied. 

She burrowed back under the blankets, curling into Paul’s side. He tried not to jump at her contact, but it surprised him that she felt that comfortable with him, even considering her admissions about her feelings after the helicopter crash. It’d been a few years since he had last dated anyone, and that ended pretty quickly, so it was fair to say he was extremely out of practice with all of that shit. He looked down at her sleeping face, a smile on his own. Paul felt at peace for a half hour as she slept, comfortably tucked into his side.

At seven thirty, Emma roused and bumped Paul’s arm with her head as she tried to sit up. 

“Ow,” she muttered as she opened her eyes to see Paul much closer than she thought he’d been when they’d gone to sleep. 

_ Had she moved or had he moved overnight?  _ She looked around to see that, in fact, it had been her that totally invaded Paul’s space sometime throughout the night and early morning. A blush rose to her cheeks as she realized she was literally tucked into his side like a romantic partner would be. Damn his height compared to hers, it just made shit like this more awkward. 

“Hey, Emma,” Paul murmured, eyes bright and clear. 

He made no move to change his position, probably out of his own awkwardness, which was evident in the redness of his ears. 

“Hey, Paul,” she said, slowly inching away from him and attempting to make it not obvious. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, shifting himself to be sitting up in the bed more and allowing Emma to move of her own accord to a more appropriate distance. 

“I slept, so I think that’s about as good as it’s going to get,” she replied. “My leg still hurts like a bitch though.” 

He made to get out of the bed. “I’ll get you some pills, just hold tight.” 

Emma didn’t have time to protest as he was out from under the covers in a flash and striding to the bathroom. The view she had was actually quite nice, what with the pajamas Paul had picked out for himself showing off his nice ass--most likely unbeknownst to the oblivious man wearing them. She cleared her throat and pretended like she totally hadn’t been checking out his ass when he returned with a bottle and glass of water for her. She took the pain pills and handed the glass back to him to put on the bedside table, resisting the urge to tell him to get back into bed because there were much bigger problems to deal with today. 

Instead, she asked, “So, first things first. Do you feel like singing and dancing?” 

Paul grinned, eyes shining. “Nope. Not even one goddamn note.” 

Emma’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. I don’t hear the Hive in my head at all anymore. It’s just me.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“I’m sure. Do you want me to try singing something just to confirm it?” Paul suggested.

Emma nodded. “If you don’t mind, please. I’d rather not have to knock you out again.”

“Okay. What do you want me to sing?” 

“Hmm, how about something from Aladdin? The Disney movie?” Emma queried, banking on his rudimentary Disney knowledge from having watched Alice over the years like she’d overheard Bill talking to him about. 

“Okay. Okay, um...okay,” Paul exhaled. “I can show you the world, shining, something, splendid..uh...I can open your eyes, take you wonder by wonder...uh..that’s all I know.” 

His singing was more like pitched talking and thankfully he didn’t even try to tap out a beat either. Emma sighed with relief. 

“Alright well that was terrible, so I’m inclined to believe you for real this time,” she said. “Let me look at your eyes, though, because those changed color when you tried singing yesterday so I just want to make sure.” 

Paul obliged and crouched down so he was eye level with Emma. She scooted closer to the edge of the bed and stared into his eyes for what felt like an eternity. He didn’t blame her one bit for wanting to check everything though. After a moment, she blinked and sat back on the bed, and Paul straightened up again. 

“You’re all clear as far as I can tell,” Emma said, the relief evident in her voice. 

“Okay, good. That’s good then, isn’t it?” Paul asked. 

Emma smiled for what felt like the first time in days. “Yeah, it’s good.” 

Paul returned the smile. “Okay, uh, great. Do you want to eat some breakfast then?” 

As if on cue, her stomach rumbled. “Yeah, let’s eat and get cleaned up, then we can figure out what we want to do today.” 

“Okay,” Paul said, helping her limp to the kitchen even though both of them knew he really didn’t need to help her. 

Breakfast consisted of more apple slices and some peanut butter toast that they rummaged around for in the cupboards. Paul took the first shower as he could do things much quicker than Emma could with her leg. She didn’t really know if she was meant to get her bandage wet, so she took the precaution of wrapping her thigh in saran wrap before going in, which made Paul chuckle. Emma stuck her tongue out at him as he handed her a towel to use and shut the door behind her. 

When she finished and opened the bathroom door a crack, she saw Paul, dressed in his dress pants and a new shirt, sitting in the living room reading a magazine from the coffee table. She closed the door all the way again, having to make a quick decision. Being clumsy as she was, she’d managed to soak her pajamas with water when she got out, but she also didn’t want to limp out in just a towel in front of Paul. 

“Ah fuck it,” she muttered, bundling the wet clothes tightly in her hand and securing the towel around her armpit before hustling down the short hallway to the bedroom. 

Paul, hearing the bathroom door open a second time, glanced up from his reading to see a towel-clad Emma limping down the hallway to the bedroom. He wasn’t not used to seeing her legs, but even with wet hair and a lumpy towel he could still appreciate the picture. The opportunity only lasted a few seconds though and then the bedroom door was shut loudly. 

Emma came out to the living room combing through her damp hair wearing a loose-fitting pair of jeans and a t-shirt of the previous occupant, with a sweatshirt in hand. Paul put the magazine down as she sat on the couch. 

“Okay, so, what do you want to do today?” he asked. 

“To be frank, I am not familiar at all with Clivesdale, so I think it might be a good idea to do some scouting around of the area. See if there’s any infected still roaming around or if there are other survivors,” Emma answered. 

Paul frowned. “I’m even less familiar than you are with Clivesdale considering most of the time I spent here was while I was a part of the Hive and I really don’t have much memory of that.” 

“Well, shit,” Emma said. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Paul replied. 

She set the comb down on the coffee table. Paul sighed and rubbed his temples. A major headache was setting in now, throbbing all around his skull. He grimaced at the sudden pain. 

“Are you alright, Paul?” Emma asked, concern etched on her face. 

He waved a hand dismissively at her. “Yeah I’m fine, it’s just a headache.” 

“Do you want some Advil?” 

“No, no, I’ll be fine, thanks.” 

“You don’t look fine to me,” she said. “Are you sure it’s not like, withdrawal from the Hive or something like that?” 

Paul looked at Emma with eyebrows raised. “Uh, maybe it could be? I’m sure it’s just a headache though, so just forget it and let’s get a move on,” he swallowed and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. 

“Seriously, Paul, I don’t think we should leave until you feel better,” she said, concern etched into her face. 

He got up and grabbed the bottle of pills from the bathroom, swallowing a couple down dry before glaring at her. “I’ll be fine, now let’s go so we have the daylight to explore.” 

Emma looked at him oddly but stood up herself and grabbed the rolling pin and a knife from the kitchen, sticking them both in her sweatshirt pocket. Paul had a knife in his jacket pocket as well, having lost the gun sometime during his transition to Clivesdale. 

They left the apartment ,moving slowly and quietly down the stairs until they entered the lobby, brightly lit from the late morning sun streaming in through the windows. There were no singing aliens in their field of vision. Emma gave Paul a single nod and, at his confirming nod, opened the door to outside. The breeze was blowing trash through the streets, and rustling the leaves on the trees. She took the rolling pin out of her pocket as they walked down the center of the street, not trusting her instincts in such eerie silence. 

A few scattered notes floated into their ears on a gust of wind, stopping them in their tracks. They both tensed up immediately, eyes wide and searching for anything to suggest infected were coming to get them.

“Did you hear that, Paul?” Emma asked, gripping the rolling pin more tightly. 

“Yeah,” he replied, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “Do you want to go find it?” 

Emma shook her head no. “Uh, fuck that, I’d rather just find some more food or anything that’ll give us clues as to what’s happening with the infected now, especially if you did actually blow up the meteor at the Starlight.” 

Paul nodded, “Okay, that’s a fair point.”

“Yeah, no shit, dumbass,” Emma had to resist rolling her eyes in front of him. “Got any better ideas?”

“I think I remember passing by a store down the block around the next corner on the way to the apartment complex after I escaped with you from the hospital,” Paul said, ears reddening in embarrassment at being scolded by her. 

“Okay fine, lead the way then,” she gestured to him. 

He led them down the street, seeing that his memory proved correct as they turned the corner and saw the big green sign for the supermarket. It looked untouched, but they didn’t take any chances, looking through all of the windows for anyone lurking in the aisles waiting to attack them. Seeing no movement whatsoever, Paul cautiously opened the door and stepped inside, Emma following close behind. She grabbed a canvas bag hanging on a sale rack and began piling food into it, choosing anything that doesn't need cooking or refrigeration. They spent less than twenty minutes in the supermarket, afraid of being discovered. 

“Anywhere else you want to go?” Paul asked, shouldering the bag of food so Emma’s leg wouldn’t be further strained from the weight. 

“Are we close to the Nantucket Bridge? I want to see if it’s still up or if the aliens lowered it somehow--” Emma broke off. 

Singing. Singing was emanating from the alley across the way from the supermarket. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Emma fumbled for the knife in her sweatshirt pocket, backing up into Paul. “How the hell did they find us?” 

“I don’t know!” Paul said, squeezing Emma’s hand momentarily before releasing it to wield his knife. 

Out of the shadows stalked people they knew extremely well. Leading the pack was Professor Hidgens, with Bill and Ted just behind, and General McNamara, Nora, and the Greenpeace girl bringing up the rear. 

“Just let it out, join us!” they sang in unison, blue goo splatters all over their clothes and a blue haze in their eyes. 

“Fuck!” Emma swore. 

They stopped ten feet in front of Paul and Emma, stopping their choreography. “We’ve missed you, Paul. Why won’t you come home? You can bring Emma with you. You’ll both be happy with the Hive.” 

Bill, Ted, and General McNamara spread out from their formation towards Paul and Emma. Nora and the Greenpeace girl stepped forward to flank Professor Hidgens as they continued their song to convince the two of them to join the Hive. 

Paul shoved Emma behind him. “No! I never wanted to be a mindless alien slave! Stay the hell away from Emma!” 

Professor Hidgens smirked and said, “Oh but Paul, did you really think you could leave us just like that? We’ve been waiting for you, Paul. It’s only a matter of time.” 

Paul’s grip on the knife faltered, the reflected sunlight as the blade fell catching Emma’s eye. “No Paul! We have to go!” 

She pulled on his arm, having seen an escape route. “Come ON Paul!” 

Emma tugged him away from their former coworkers and fled down a side street, weaving in and out of alleyways until they were far enough away for her to feel comfortable enough to take a breath. 

“Paul, what the fuck was that?” she interrogated him. 

Paul gestured wildly. “I-I don’t know. I’m sorry, Emma, I don’t know what came over me back there.” 

Holding her hand up to stop him, Emma took a few deep breaths to calm down before looking back at him. “As long as you don’t feel like joining the Hive again, I don’t give a fuck what it was.” 

“I never want to join the fucking Hive again,” Paul stated firmly. 

“Good, now let’s get the fuck out of here and back to the apartment,” Emma said, her eyes burning with something Paul couldn’t quite place.

They took a very roundabout way back to the apartment complex, not wanting to encounter their alien friends again. By the time they got back, the sun was starting its descent for the evening. As soon as they were both inside the apartment, Paul shoved a kitchen chair under the front door handle for good measure, while Emma closed all of the blinds and curtains. 

Emma collapsed onto the couch, Paul falling right next to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. Her hand came to rest on his chest of its own accord, but she didn’t care. Both of them were just happy to still have each other, uninfected and alive. 

“Fuck,” she exhaled. 

“Fuck,” Paul echoed. 

She looked up at him, gaze faltering when she met his blue eyes. A blush rose to her cheeks. 

“Hey, Paul?” she said softly, not breaking eye contact. 

“Yeah?” 

“Kiss me.” 

Paul didn’t hesitate to lean into the kiss, her lips soft against his own. Heat rushed to his face as she put her hand on the back of his neck and secured them together more firmly. They broke apart and touched foreheads, both flushed. Paul put his own hand over Emma’s that had slid down to his chest. He decided then and there that they would make it out of Clivesdale alive, together, musical alien infection be damned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, this one *also* got away from me a bit (tbh I'm not surprised at all) but I also really liked this chapter because I got to make them talk even more, and be hella cute. Anyway let me know what you think in a comment because I thrive off of feedback and would love to hear your theories about where I'm taking this! :)
> 
> ~Madi


	4. America is Great Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm.

Emma and Paul cuddled on the couch in content silence for another hour, both lost in their own thoughts after that kiss, what it meant. 

Even though she’d asked him to kiss her after the helicopter crash, he still couldn’t fully wrap his mind around her still wanting him in that way after he’d tried to kill her multiple times as an infected alien. Sure, he realized pretty quickly how obvious his crush had probably been to her when he came in to Beanies every day, but it didn’t make him feel any less surprised that she felt the same way. They had really only known each other for a hellish four days, and the only truly genuine conversation they had had was in the bar of Hidgens’ bunker. Clearly those hell-filled four days were enough to reorganize their priorities past just surviving. 

Paul’s stomach growling loudly broke both of their streams of consciousness and brought them back to reality. 

He smiled and said, “Dinner?” 

“Yeah, let’s eat,” Emma agreed, chuckling. 

She leaned in for a quick kiss, surprising Paul once again. When they broke apart, she bit her lip and looked up at him through her lashes, eyes dark and searching. He blushed as he opened his eyes, still in disbelief about this new development. Maybe it was just the third near-death experience really hitting home for both of them.

Paul helped her stand from the couch, her bad leg having cramped up from sitting in the same position for so long. They ate a quick meal of peanut butter sandwiches and bananas. The sun began setting while they were cleaning up, so a shared look was enough to indicate it was probably a good idea to head to bed soon as they didn’t want to turn any lights on for fear of being found by the Hive again. They changed into their pajamas in separate rooms, and Emma took out all of the clips in her hair so she wouldn’t feel stabbing pains in her skull all night like she’d felt that first night after Paul rescued her. 

Paul’s awkwardness about sharing the bed was ever-present, but once in it he had no qualms about Emma snuggling up into his embrace. With over a foot difference in height between them, she was able to easily tuck her head under his chin comfortably and have his arms wrapped around her. It wasn’t the best position for sleeping, but they probably wouldn’t be falling asleep for another couple of hours as it was with the new information from the Hive they’d gotten. 

“So,” Paul said, breaking the silence. 

“So,” Emma echoed, lightly tracing a pattern with her index finger on his forearm. 

She hadn’t realized how buff he actually was until she was being held in his arms, and quite frankly, she was really into it. He obviously took the time to go to the gym regularly, but his office desk job and suit masked his efforts from her until now. She wasn’t a complete lazy-ass herself, but she’d lost a significant amount of her stamina once she got her job at Beanies and didn’t have time to work out and run. Either way, she was still proud of herself for being able to keep up with him today when they were running from the Hive members. 

“Um, about earlier…” Paul trailed off, his pale complexion not helping him as his cheeks turned pink. 

Emma twisted so she could face him for better conversation. “What about it?” 

“Well, uh, okay,” Paul stuttered, “so um, where are we, would you say?” 

“Oh my god Paul, you are being so awkward about this, it’s honestly really cute,” she said, smiling up at him. 

“Oh, uh, okay,” he said. 

She rested a hand on his chest. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this, so here it is. I’m not someone who’s into that gross romance-y shit.”    
  
Paul grimaced, but his expression lifted when she moved her hand to cup his face. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you, Paul. I don’t just go around kissing people, you know. What I said back in Oakley Park was true, and I would love to go on an actual date with you as soon as we’re out of this shit. But, we’re obviously still in deep shit, so that’ll have to wait. Good?” 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he answered, smiling. 

“Good,” Emma said, lightly tapping his face with a finger a few times. “Now get down here and kiss me.” 

Paul obliged, wrapping her up in his arms as she wound hers around his neck. Sleep didn’t come for another hour, but when it did, he was the happiest he’d ever been, and so was she. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Professor HIdgens hummed a tune quietly to himself as the rest of his little motley crew of relations to the sole humans left in Hatchetfield and Clivesdale were doing other things. Mr. Davidson was teaching a new dance to the Greenpeace girl, while Bill, Ted, and Nora were practicing their harmonies. 

Something hadn’t sat right with him as soon as Paul had run away from them, from the Hive. In his mind, a small part of it felt fractured, unreachable by the Hive anymore, and it had only fragmented further when Paul had been severed completely from the Hive. The bastard had left the family, and for that the mother was angry. They’d spent hours roaming the streets of Clivesdale searching for any sign of him and Emma, but found nothing. The mother punished them then, putting them through a rigorous dance routine that left all of them out of breath and aching, Hivemind strength or not. She could give pain, and she could take away bliss, and that kept them all in line. 

Even so, now that they’d run into them outside the supermarket, Professor Hidgens felt that part of his mind growing stronger, pushing back against the Hive. It frightened him, but also excited him. He hit a wrong note with that thought, and everyone else snapped to look at him, concern on their faces. They never hit a wrong pitch with the Hive, ever. The Hive was family, the Hive was harmony. The Hive was inevitable. 

Soon, they’d make Paul and Emma understand that. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Emma woke up, chilly from the absence of Paul’s body heat surrounding her. She immediately sat up, looking wildly around in the early morning dark for him, fearful the Hive had found them and taken him. 

“Paul? Paul, where are you?” She shouted, voice hitching in her throat. 

Paul rushed into the bedroom with a bewildered expression and wet, uncombed hair. “What’s wrong, Emma?” 

She exhaled loudly and slouched back onto the headboard. “Oh thank god you're okay, I thought the Hive had found us and taken you.” 

Paul settled on the side of the bed, allowing her to scoot over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She tucked into his embrace easily, wrapping her arms around his middle. 

He kissed her on the forehead and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I just didn’t want to wake you up since you were exhausted yesterday and you need all the sleep you can get to heal your leg.”

“It’s okay, I just panicked when you were gone and I didn’t hear anything. Can’t help the paranoia I guess,” Emma replied. 

“Hey, it’s okay, Em,” Paul said, squeezing her in empathy. “I woke up in a cold sweat earlier because I dreamt I was bleeding blue blood and the Hive had me again, so I completely understand. That’s why I got up so I could shower and feel clean.”

Emma squeezed his side in return, grateful for his understanding, and for sharing his own feelings so willingly. 

“You’re fine, Paul, I promise you that you’re clean. Otherwise I’d never have let you kiss me yesterday,” she said boldly. 

Paul’s ears reddened and he stuttered, “T-that’s not what I meant!” 

She laughed at his embarrassment, her goal achieved. “Oh my god Paul, you’re doing it again! Seriously, you’re too fucking nervous about this shit, it’s the best.” 

He blushed more, and she leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Come on, help me up then so we can get a move on.” 

Helping Emma stand, Paul did his best to let her do most of it herself so she could strengthen her leg. He set out the pills on the bathroom counter for her, having accidentally put them back on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet after taking some this morning. She murmured her thanks and closed the bathroom door quietly. 

Sighing, Paul, ran a hand through his hair. He had no clue how all this had happened so fast, but he wasn’t worried about the prospect of being with Emma. It was more the fact of the infected still roaming the streets and wanting to kill them that worried him. He peeked out of the blinds in the living room, but didn’t see a single soul dancing in the streets. If anything, he was mostly disappointed in the lack of knowledge of any other human survivors out there. As far as they knew, it was just the two of them left alive in all of Hatchetfield and Clivesdale. There hadn’t even been so much as a single news helicopter flying overhead to capture the decimation of the towns and populations. Maybe the general public didn’t want to even think of the possibility of survivors from a catastrophe like this. 

He shook his head to clear it of these dark thoughts and went into the bedroom to gather up his, well, the previous tenant’s, clothes into a neat pile while waiting for Emma to finish her shower. She was done quickly and came out of the bathroom with the bandage roll and supplies in her hand. 

“Do you think you could wrap me up again? I think I got the bandage too wet today and I don’t have the skill to wrap it properly,” she said, holding it out to him. 

“Sure, I can do that,” Paul replied, taking the supplies from her and kneeling on the floor next to the bed after she’d sat on the edge with her left leg extended out. 

The unwrapping process went much better this time around thanks to not having dried blood splattered all over her thigh. Re-wrapping it, however, felt much different to him than it had the first time. Maybe it was all in his head, or maybe it was because he knew the touch of his hands could mean something very different to them both now. The wounds looked less angry today, and the staples were holding steady, with the seam of both sides a healthy pink color and no blood. When he was done, he lightly tapped her thigh and looked into her eyes, smiling softly. 

She leaned in for a kiss, and when their lips met, it felt more urgent than the kisses they’d shared yesterday. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest when they separated, and she could tell Paul also felt the difference as he was breathing more heavily than he should have been from a simple kiss like that. 

“Okay,” Emma said. “Let’s get going. I want to explore Clivesdale more and try and get a visual on the Nantucket bridge since we didn’t get to yesterday.” 

“Okay,” Paul agreed. 

They got up and put on jackets, then grabbed their weapons and a few snacks from the kitchen. Exiting the apartment building out of a different door, they started off in the direction of the hospital, it’s tall building making it stand out above the small one and two-story shops and homes that made up most of this area of Clivesdale. The wind was calm today, and the sun was hidden by heavy, dark clouds that promised rain later. 

Paul led the way, his memory of trips to Clivesdale with Alice and Bill coming in handy. They walked for an hour with no sign of any infected, or any other humans, for that matter. Road signs with arrows to the Nantucket bridge were finally coming up on streets, making Emma impatient. Her leg was tiring her out though, so she dropped back from Paul’s long stride within a few paces. He turned to his left to ask her a question when he saw she wasn’t right there, and he whirled around, fearful, until he saw she was trailing behind him. 

He waited for her to catch up with him, hands on his hips as he tried to look intimidating. “Okay, you’re not walking anymore on that leg, I can see it’s causing you a lot of pain.” 

Emma hemmed and hawed. “I’m  _ fine _ , Paul. That hill back there was just tough, but I’ll be fine, okay?”

“Nope, you’re getting on my back, and you’re going to deal with it so you don’t fuck up your leg more,” Paul said decisively. 

“I’m not getting on your back like a fucking child, Paul, I’m a thirty-two year old woman for Christ’s sake,” Emma said haughtily.

“Too bad, it’s happening anyway,” Paul stated before crouching down and lifting her in one smooth motion while ignoring her protests. 

When she was settled properly on his back and her left leg wasn’t being pulled too hard, he set off down the street, a shit-eating grin on his face as he knew she was frowning in defeat. 

She poked him on the cheek. “Just because you’re stupidly strong doesn’t mean you get to do this all the time while my leg is healing, you know.” 

“I know, but I also know you can’t run very quickly with it right now if we were to be attacked by infected again,” Paul shot back. 

He felt her sigh more than he heard her, but didn’t care if she was upset by this change in arrangements because they both knew it’d get them to their destination faster. 

The amount of crashed cars they passed as they entered more of the city center near the bridge grew alarmingly quick. Clearly the bridge, even though Clivesdale had pulled it up before the infected could have made it over, was an epicenter of some kind for infections. They tensed up as the entrance and exit ramps came into their line of sight. Paul set her down then, realizing they both needed full mobility in case of an attack. The bridge was still raised, although not all the way, as if some of the infected had tried lowering it but PEIP had gotten there and stopped them before they could finish. Paul and Emma, seeing their hopes of crossing back into Hatchetfield denied, turned to go down towards the hospital again, hands clasped loosely together. 

A single, sustained note pierced their ears when they crossed the Main Street intersection, and they jumped apart in alarm. Emma whipped out her rolling pin and knife, and Paul took out the airsoft gun he’d found digging around in the apartment’s front closet. The walked forward, eyes swiveling as they passed dark storefront after dark storefront. 

As they approached the intersection with Potter Drive, six distinguishable figures emerged from the record store on the corner, and others began appearing from the shadows. These were all moving to a synchronized beat and wore black uniforms -- they must have been the PEIP soldiers that didn’t make it. Paul didn’t see General McNamara among them, though, so he didn’t know how to feel about all of them with their heavy tactical gear still on and functioning. Before they reached the intersection, Emma and Paul knew exactly who they’d be facing. 

This time, Ted was leading the pack, clearly having finally leaned into the song, while Professor Hidgens was bringing up the rear after the rest of them, his face a blank slate compared to the evil glee adorning the rest of the group’s faces. 

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Bill sang. “The loudest become the strong; you are weak so join our song.” 

Emma wielded her knife, slashing the air in front of her as they continued their choreographed approach. Paul gripped the airsoft gun tighter as the circle of infected closed in on them. 

“You can’t run, you can’t hide,” Ted sang, with echoes from the others. “So just give up and join the Hive.” 

“There’s no answers to be found in Hatchetfield anymore, Emma,” Professor Hidgens spoke up then, melodic lilt to his voice. “You can’t defeat us, and you can’t save us. We must go on with the show!” 

She looked at his eyes as he stepped to the front of the group, and in them saw more than the empty nothingness that was reflected in all of the other infected. He’d stopped dancing as soon as she’d caught his gaze, though he still swayed in time to an unheard beat. This troubled her, and she couldn’t put her finger on why it did. 

“Come on Paul, just let it out! Let it out, let it out, let it out!” Nora, Mr. Davidson, and the Greenpeace girl harmonized.

“Never!” Paul shouted, raising his airsoft gun and resting his finger on the trigger. 

Emma shook her head and got into her battle stance, still facing Hidgens. 

“Woah oh oh, woah oh oh, woah oh oh,” the PEIP soldiers sang darkly, tightening the circle. 

Paul and Emma moved to stand back to back, realizing how outnumbered they were and that they’d brought knives and a shitty airsoft gun to a fucking zombie fight. 

“There’s only room for right and wrong! It’s me or you or you or me, the loudest become the strong!” all of them sang, reaching out their hands towards Paul and Emma. 

The only one not singing or reaching for them was Professor Hidgens.  _ What the fuck is he doing? _ Emma thought, increasingly scared of what his non-participation meant. Nora was fast approaching though, and Emma sliced through the air in front of her, making Nora recoil. 

“Paul, we’ve gotta fucking get out of here!” Emma screamed. 

“Shit! Emma, on your right!” Paul shouted back, shooting his airsoft gun at one of the infected PEIP soldiers. 

Infected stepped in time closer, closer, closer, until they were all but on top of Paul and Emma and the six others. 

Still, Professor Hidgens stood, and still he did not sing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well guys, I'm not sure what I expected, but this one was again around 3k in length. So I'm going to revise my initial estimate and say this will most likely be at least 20k, if not closer to 30k by the time it's over. I'm still aiming for 10 chapters though! 
> 
> Disclaimer: This is not the chapter where Paul/Emma sexy-times ~happens~ either -- they just kiss a lot because that's just what my brain kicked out, but I promise when it happens you'll know. 
> 
> Also, please PLEASE let me know what you thought in a comment!! Whether or not you liked it or thought it was stupid, your feedback is very much appreciated! 
> 
> ~Madi


	5. Show Stoppin Number

Paul and Emma kept shooting and slashing at the infected PEIP soldiers as they approached, still singing “Woah oh oh oh” menacingly with blue goo all over their uniforms. 

“Emma, we gotta fight through them, come on!” Paul shouted, shooting one of the PEIP soldiers in the face with the airsoft gun. 

Emma shrieked in pain as one of the PEIP soldiers got through her guard and went right for her bad leg, scrabbling for the bandages over her wound. She brought the knife around to the soldier’s arm and slashed with all her strength, spilling blue blood as she made contact with her target’s shoulder. With a guttural scream and blue splashes all over her clothes, Emma felt adrenaline course through her body as she wielded the rolling pin and knife, maiming PEIP soldiers with every blow as she tried to make a clear exit path. 

Paul felt the pressure of her leaning against his back disappear. “Emma!?” he shouted, voice cracking. “Emma, where are you?”

The PEIP soldiers suddenly stopped their assault and went silent, moving back to stand in formation. Paul whirled around, finger still heavy on the trigger of his airsoft gun, relieved when Emma came into view, whole and intact, splattered with blue blood that thankfully wasn’t hers. He reached for her and she stumbled over to him, grasping at his arm for steadiness. 

They looked at Bill, Ted, Nora, Mr. Davidson, and the Greenpeace girl. The five of them were sort of standing there limply, heads tilted at odd angles and arms hanging loosely by their sides.  _ Where the fuck was Hidgens? _

The sudden silence was eerie and had both of them on edge. Emma wiped the blood off of her weapons on her shorts. Her bandage was mercifully still holding, even if her thigh was burning in pain from the fight. She leaned further into Paul, willing to let him take her weight for a bit so she could recover. 

“Are you doing okay?” Paul asked, concern etched on his face. 

“I’m fine, leg’s just a bitch but what’s new there,” Emma said, grunting as a pain shot through her leg. 

“Shit, Emma, what the hell are we going to do?” Paul’s voice sounded wrecked. 

“I-I don’t know, Paul,” she whispered. 

He pulled her tighter against him as they looked around them, at the inhumanly still infected just standing there, eyes blank. Emma gripped Paul’s hand tightly, squinting in the midafternoon sun.

A single, rich baritone rang out in the silence of the street behind them, back the way they’d originally come from. The five infected standing in front of them raised their heads, eyes that bright, infected blue. Paul and Emma turned around, weapons raised. The PEIP soldiers blocking them parted to let the figure through. 

“It’s...a...show stoppin number, a real show-stopper; show stoppin number, come on,” Professor Hidgens sang, projecting his voice louder than Emma had thought possible as he stepped in time to an unheard piano that Emma could picture only too clearly. 

“No!” Emma screamed, collapsing into Paul’s arms. 

He held something in his hands that Paul couldn’t make out, but it definitely looked like a weapon, so Paul gripped the airsoft gun tighter. Professor Hidgens stopped fifteen feet away from the two of them, the PEIP soldiers having reformed the circle behind him. 

“Something to…” Professor Hidgens paused his song and gave Paul a single nod, “shock ‘em!” 

“To bring them a-crawling, a big-time box office draw,” Hidgens drawled, pushing something on the device in his hand as the lyric ended. 

All of the PEIP soldiers suddenly started seizing, blue goo leaking out of their mouths and ears. They collapsed to the ground and lay there unmoving, leaving Bill, Ted, Mr. Davidson, Nora, and the Greenpeace girl standing, eyes electric blue and devoid of life. 

“With the press and the glamour, we’ll kill the reviews,” Hidgens pushed a button on the device again, causing the five of them to start convulsing, blue-tinged spit flying out of their mouths. 

“What the hell is he doing?” Emma shrieked, digging her nails into Paul’s forearm. 

“I-I don’t know!” Paul said, turning to look at their former coworkers, still quivering on their feet.  _ Were their eyes clearing, and the blue leaving them? What was Hidgens up to? _

Emma kept her eyes on Professor Hidgens, not trusting him at all right now. For all she knew, this was just a setup to a final attack on her and Paul to either kill them or convert them to the Hive. She squinted, trying to see his face and his eyes more clearly in the sunlight. The clothes he was wearing were different from that black turtleneck and khaki pants he’d worn at his house, but she couldn’t place how exactly they were different. His stance, the box in his hand, his singing of the exact same song he’d sung in the bunker to her and Ted, it all seemed, purposeful. 

“Professor Hidgens!” Emma shouted, trying to get his attention. “Professor Hidgens, what are you doing?!”

Rather than responding with words, he merely continued singing. “Spotlight on Mr. Ingenue! So fill up your tumbler, got a show stoppin number for you!” 

He stepped forward, coming within reaching distance of them. Emma could see his eyes clearly now, and they weren’t blue, but his natural dark brown.  _ How the hell wasn’t he infected? _ She turned around because Paul’s arm locked around her. Bill, Ted, Mr. Davidson, Nora, and the Greenpeace girl were now standing, albeit not in a blocked set, but rather slouched over, as if they were exhausted. 

“Paul, what’s going on?” Emma asked. 

“I don’t know, but whatever Hidgens did with that box has seriously affected them,” Paul replied. 

“A show stoppin number is something you’d die for, a real catchy, earwormy tune,” Professor Hidgens continued singing, but less dramatic than before. 

Paul and Emma turned back around to face him. “Hidgens?” Paul tentatively asked. 

“Emma, Paul, welcome to the end,” Hidgens said in a low voice, expression dark. 

“Shit,” Emma muttered. “What the fuck do we do?”

Paul had no words, only held onto her tighter and adjusting his stance a bit for better traction on the pavement. 

Professor Hidgens held out the box in his hand, offering it to them. “An exit from this Broadway venue.” 

Having a longer reach, Paul carefully took it from Hidgens and inspected it. “What do you mean, an exit?” 

“Exactly that, Paul. No more infection, no more violent musical world,” Professor Hidgens said in a normal tone of voice. 

“Bullshit! You’re still infected!” Emma shouted, fearful of him speaking. “It’s too easy, Paul!” 

Professor Hidgens shook his head and moved directly in front of them, addressing mostly Emma. “Paul, your infection was cleared by simple distance and a few knocks on the head. Why couldn’t a simple neurological shock do the same thing, but instantly?” 

“I don’t believe you!” Emma replied, still gripping Paul’s arm tightly. 

Paul was unsettled too, unsure of how to respond to the Professor’s theory. How in the hell had he known how Paul’s infection stopped? 

“How did you know I got hit in the head?” Paul asked, curiosity getting the better of him. 

Professor Hidgens smiled. “When you got hit, your mind stopped sharing information with the Hive instantaneously. It was easy enough to deduce what had happened based on Ms. Perkins’s attitude and abilities and your strength of will.” 

“What I’d like to know is how the fuck you’re still alive!” Emma interrupted. 

“You know exactly how I’m still alive, Emma. I’m a very good actor as you know, and the chaos of Paul forcibly leaving the Hive allowed me to slip quietly out mentally all while remaining with everyone physically,” Professor Hidgens explained. “The Hivemind was fracturing, and tethers I had with the others were failing. It was a simple enough decision to make.”

“Bullshit, you wanted to be infected, you told me that yourself before you sang that goddamn song,” Emma responded. 

Professor Hidgens inclined his head to acknowledge her statement. “I don’t dispute that. When they injured my body though, that was when I realized I had made a terrible mistake that I couldn’t take back. I started working on a cure as soon as I had control of my mind after Paul here blew up the meteor.” 

“Is the meteor blown up? Like, fully blown up?” Paul interjected, instantly more worried now about the state of the infection. 

“Unfortunately, no. But the damage you did cause limited the range of the Hive to a thirty mile radius around the Starlight Theatre, so they can’t expand past Clivesdale, and all those who try to leave as infected will end up returning to their human state, fully healed as if they were never killed or injured in the first place,” Professor Hidgens said. 

Emma tore her gaze away from the Professor to inspect the PEIP soldiers and the others. Not one of the soldiers looked conscious, all of them drooling blue-tinted spit. Behind her and Paul, Bill, Ted, Nora, Mr. Davidson, and the Greenpeace girl were still standing slouched over, and blue drool was dripping onto their clothing and the pavement beneath them. She resisted leaving Paul’s embrace to check on her old boss, still not trusting Hidgens’s word. 

Returning her attention to the man, she adjusted her grip on the knife. “They’re all drooling blue spit, but I still don’t follow,” she said. 

“This device sent a high-pitched frequency that the human ear can’t pick up and isn’t affected by, but to the alien spores lurking in the human body, it is fatal,” Hidgens replied. “You’re seeing the dead spores leaving the host bodies. It takes approximately five hours to run its course.” 

Emma looked indignant at this statement and dug her nails into Paul’s arm, making him wince. “How the hell do you know how long it takes? Who did you test this on?” 

Professor Hidgens held up his hands in mock surrender. “There were several infected who chose to enter my property after I’d recovered, so I took them into my lab. They’re perfectly fine now and are in my home, protected from any infected or other intruders.” 

Emma couldn’t decipher if he was telling the truth or not but at this point the adrenaline in her system was beginning to fizzle out, being replaced with throbbing pain in her leg and tension in her shoulders and arms. Paul was trembling a bit from anxiety and tension next to her, so she made a decision. 

“If you’re lying, you’re going to be the first person I come looking for if my friends aren’t alright after this experiment of yours,” she practically snarled, pointing the knife at Hidgens for emphasis. “If you’re telling the truth, meet Paul and I at the hospital tomorrow at noon with our  _ human _ friends and maybe we can get through this shit together. Deal?”

Professor Hidgens nodded his agreement, stepping back from the two of them and allowing them a clear path to leave. 

Emma let go of Paul’s arm only to slide her hand into his, squeezing it tightly as they marched past Hidgens, the fallen PEIP soldiers, and back out onto the empty streets of Clivesdale. She didn’t turn back once. 

They kept up a steady pace with their hands locked together for ten blocks until Emma’s leg finally gave out. Paul caught her as she stumbled, and she didn’t argue when he made her get on his back. The rest of the walk back to the apartment was silent as both of them scanned every store window and alleyway for signs of an infected. Both let out sighs of relief when the apartment building they’d begun calling home came into sight. Paul let Emma down then, and they climbed the stairs to the apartment with haste, wanting to put as much space as they could between them and the waste that lay behind them. 

As soon as Paul locked the door behind them, Emma was on him, pulling his head down to hers and kissing him fiercely. He immediately wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet just enough to minimize the pressure on her bad leg. Deepening the kiss, Paul nipped at her bottom lip, and she acquiesced, opening her mouth to his. Heat began pooling in her belly, but Paul broke the kiss, opening his eyes to search hers. Both of them were breathing heavily. 

Paul set her back down on her feet and bent over to rest his forehead against hers. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up and have some food, yeah? Then we can figure out what the hell happened today.” 

Emma bit her lip, feeling the sting of rejection ever so slightly. She smiled softly and said, “Yeah, that’s a good plan.” 

“Okay,” Paul said, kissing her on the forehead before letting her go to the bathroom first while he grabbed clean clothes for both of them from the bedroom. 

She turned the water on to medium heat and debated wrapping her leg in plastic wrap or if it would be smarter to just have Paul put a new bandage on it now that this one was covered in dried blue blood. Figuring it would be better in the long run to have Paul fix her up again, she left the plastic wrap on the counter and accepted the clothes from Paul before shutting the door. As she stepped into the shower, she told herself that if they made it out of Clivesdale alive, the first thing she was going to do when she had time alone with Paul was going to be jumping his bones, no doubt about it. Emma let that idea swirl around like a nice dream for a minute or two before tucking it away for later so she could focus on getting clean and letting Paul have some of the hot water. 

“I’m done,” she said a few minutes later as she walked to the living room, seeing Paul sitting gingerly on the edge of the armchair she’d dubbed as his. “I need you to redo my leg again though when you’re done.”

“Okay,” he replied, reaching to squeeze her hand once on his way to the bathroom. “I won’t be long if you wanted to get some food out.” 

He closed the bathroom door and Emma heard the water turn on.  _ If only we weren’t such awkward fucks, _ she mused. Limping to the kitchen, she pulled out the peanut butter and bread, along with another of the apples and prepped it all by the time Paul was done with his shower. He lumbered out to the kitchen, finger combing his damp hair. They ate quickly, not really talking as they cleaned up their dishes. 

“Okay, time for your leg,” Paul said. 

Emma perched on the couch as he knelt on the floor, almost feeling like this was a routine; her with her fucked up leg, and Paul playing tolerant nurse to her grateful patient. When he was done, Paul surprised both of them by tenderly kissing the top of her thigh just above the knee. He blushed red and pulled back quickly, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

“Uh, sorry, I uh, I-I don’t know what that was,” Paul stumbled over his words. 

“It’s okay,” Emma said. “Actually, it’s more than okay.” 

Somehow Paul went even redder, which made Emma laugh. 

“Jesus Paul, you really are ridiculous, you know that? Come on, it’s dark out now, let’s talk about our plan for tomorrow in bed,” Emma said. 

“Okay,” Paul agreed, helping her stand. 

Once they were settled in with Emma tucked into Paul’s embrace, the mood turned serious. They debated different plans of attack for nearly an hour and a half before compromising. Happy with this idea, Emma kissed Paul gently before extricating herself from his arms to go to sleep. Paul set an alarm on his watch—no, General McNamara’s watch—for eight am, turned over, and fell asleep as he watched the even rise and fall of Emma’s chest as she breathed in her sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the wait on this one, folks! Hidgens just wasn't wanting to cooperate with me dialogue-wise in this chapter. Thoughts on what will happen next? I think this is about the halfway point, so be prepared for another 4-5 chapters! 
> 
> ~Madi


	6. Not Your Seed

It was still dark when Emma woke up, throbbing in her left thigh the culprit of her wakefulness. Checking the alarm clock next to the bed, it read 4:57 a.m. She didn’t want to wake Paul, so she moved as slowly as possible away from him on the bed to deal with her leg. As soon as she was out of the bed, she limped her way to the bathroom. Closing the door most of the way, she turned the light on and sat on the closed toilet to inspect her wound. The bandages still looked clean, but her leg hadn’t throbbed like this for two days, so it concerned her a lot. She debated taking them off, but she also didn’t want to waste valuable bandages when she didn’t know how long they’d be stuck in Clivesdale. 

“Fuck it,” Emma sighed, and began unwrapping Paul’s handiwork. 

She hadn’t noticed anything odd when she’d cleaned up in the shower last night, but that didn’t mean she didn’t miss something from being so fatigued. Peering at both wounds, they both looked healthy and pink and healing, with no trace of blue or red blood for that matter. Poking at them both increased the throbbing, so she figured it was just the stress of all the fighting she’d done yesterday straining her muscles and therefore her healing wound. She decided to take a few aspirin for the pain and re-use the bandages since they were still clean. 

Emma was re-wrapping her leg with the bandages when she heard Paul call out in his sleep. 

“No! No! You’re not taking her! Get away from us!” he shouted, hoarse. 

“Shit,” Emma muttered, hurrying to finish the bandaging to wake Paul up. 

Paul was flailing in his sleep, the sheets tangling around him. Emma rushed to the bed but didn’t want to get hit in the face. Taking a chance, she jumped onto the bed and straddled him, pulling forcing his arms down and stopping his motion. 

“Paul, wake up!” she said loudly, shaking his wrists where she held them. “Wake up, asshole!”

Paul shot awake, eyes wide and staring directly at her. “What? What’s going on?” 

“You were screaming and flailing in your sleep so I rushed in here to wake you up,” Emma explained. 

“Oh, uh, okay,” Paul said, blinking a few times to wake up more fully. He blushed when he realized the position she was in on top of him. “And because of this you decided to wake me up like...this?”

It was Emma’s turn to blush then, but she recovered quickly and retorted, “Yeah because otherwise you were going to hit me in the fucking face!” 

“Sorry,” he said automatically, still red. “Is there any reason you’re still holding me captive?”

Emma released his arms when he said that, but didn’t move from straddling him, feeling bold all of a sudden. “Is this a problem for you?” 

Paul turned even redder, but threaded his fingers with hers anyway. “Uh, no,” he stuttered. 

“Okay then, we’re making progress,” Emma said, giving Paul a sultry smile. 

“Uh, okay, I guess?” Paul replied, mildly confused. 

Emma sighed.  _ Damn he really is an awkward fuck, god this is going to take forever! _

“Well, since we’re both awake now, why don’t we get up and start planning for our meeting with Hidgens?” she suggested, sliding off of Paul onto the bed next to him. 

Paul squinted at the alarm clock on the nightstand before pulling her close to him and mumbled into her hair. “No, we can sleep for longer, it’s not even light out yet. Also, it’s only five thirty in the morning, which is too early to be up.” 

“Okay you’ve convinced me, let’s sleep,” Emma said, getting under the covers and snuggling into Paul’s side. 

He kissed her hair and shifted to be more comfortable with her. “Sleep, Em,” he whispered, closing his eyes. 

Emma obeyed and fell back asleep quickly, this time dreaming of her sister from happier times. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The alarm clock beeped at eight a.m., startling both Paul and Emma awake, causing them to bump heads. 

“Ow, fuck,” Emma muttered, rubbing her forehead. 

Paul groaned and leaned over to slap the alarm clock off. “Good morning to us.” 

Emma laughed once and looked at Paul. “No nightmare this time?” 

“Nope. You?” 

“Nah, just memories with my sister,” she said softly. 

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. “It’s okay to miss her, you know.” 

“I know,” Emma mumbled, suddenly feeling tears welling in her eyes. “Why is this fucking happening now, dammit!” 

“Hey, hey, hey, shh, it’s okay, Em,” Paul said, rubbing comforting circles on her back. 

She was happy he couldn’t see her face right now, because she was ready to start blubbering like she never did at Jane’s funeral or the months after. Two years after her death and Emma still hadn’t processed it. Now wasn’t the time to start, though. There was unfinished business she had to attend to first. 

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Emma cleared her throat and shifted in Paul’s arms. “Thanks but we’ve got work to do today, I can grieve later.” 

“Um, okay,” Paul said, unsure of what to do with that statement. 

Emma scooched up to be face to face with him on his pillow. “I’m fine, Paul, really.” 

To further prove her point, she leaned over and kissed him, hard, putting her free hand on the back of his neck. Paul took a minute to respond, his lips softening against hers. She groaned into his mouth and scraped her nails against his neck, making him squeeze her waist tightly. He didn’t let her go on like this for too long, breaking away after a few minutes. 

“See? Told you I’m fine,” she smirked, brown eyes burning, free hand trailing lightly along his back now. 

“Uh, ye-yeah, sure,” he said, ears red and face flushed. 

She kissed him again, but much softer this time. When she pulled away, she said, “Okay, let’s get to work.” 

“Okay let’s do it,” Paul agreed, opening his arms so she could get out of bed. 

They dressed quickly and ate another breakfast of peanut butter toast and a couple of granola bars each. Emma grabbed her bag this time, putting the rolling pin and the airsoft gun in it, along with a few other supplies. She honestly had no idea what they’d be walking into, especially since she refused to trust Professor Hidgens’s word considering he’d basically tried to kill her and Ted by proxy when he sang that song and did his dumb musical pitch. 

Paul was almost more apprehensive than Emma, considering he had been infected, and didn’t know what to think of Hidgens knowing how the spores were dislodged from his body. If he was honest with himself, he was scared if he was with all of the Hive members again that he would start singing and dancing again and try to kill Emma for a third time. Sure, he trusted Emma’s judgement but the feeling of musical rage he’d felt in the apartment towards her was something he was certain would be burned into his memory forever. The fear he’d seen on her face as he opened his mouth and started singing--that was a feeling he never wanted to cause her again if he could help it. 

At eleven, they headed out to the hospital to meet Hidgens and theoretically all of their friends alive and well and human. They walked hand in hand, gripping each other tightly. Paul’s watch read 11:48 a.m. when they rounded the corner to the hospital. No one else was in sight yet, which made both of them nervous. Emma opened her drawstring bag and pulled out the airsoft gun, handing it off to Paul. She grabbed the rolling pin and also a water bottle before closing the bag and putting it back on. 

At 11:59 a.m. Paul spotted Professor Hidgens coming from the direction of the Nantucket bridge with people walking behind him, and nudged Emma’s arm to get her attention. 

“He’s here,” Paul said, raising his gun and pointing it in the general direction of Hidgens. 

Emma turned and leaned into Paul’s side, needing the support. 

Professor Hidgens stopped about twenty feet away from them, with all their coworkers behind him. General McNamara, Alice, Zoey, Colonel Shaffer, and Melissa were there too. Emma felt Paul’s sharp intake of breath as everyone came into focus. She pressed into him to share her strength with him, not realizing how seeing Zoey and Colonel Shaffer would affect her. 

All of them were still wearing the clothes they’d been when their apotheosis was brought upon them, with traces of blue goo smeared over the various body parts where they’d originally been injured. From this distance, they couldn’t see if their eyes were the normal shades of browns and blues, so they remained on their guard. Professor Hidgens stepped forward to address Paul and Emma. 

“So, Emma, do you believe me or do you want to kill me?” he queried. 

“I still don’t understand how you’re not fucking dead,” Emma dodged his question. “You had your guts ripped out by your boys, you should be dead, not standing here perfectly healthy. It doesn’t make any sense!” 

Professor Hidgens clasped his hands behind his back. “Ah yes, that. While my original theory did not explore this side of the apotheosis, I did some testing on myself as soon as I awoke within the Hivemind. I observed feeling no pain even when causing myself moderate harm, and as soon as I joined in a song and dance, I could feel the muscles stitching themselves back together. By the end of a song my wound would be fully healed with no visible scarring.” 

“That shouldn’t be possible,” Emma said. 

“It makes sense to me,” Paul interjected, causing Emma to look at him in alarm. “I blew up that fucking meteor, didn’t I? I should have also been dead or at least severely injured but I remember waking up and singing a song on the journey over here to Clivesdale. Any wounds I had from the grenade blast were long gone by the time we reached the hospital.” 

Professor Hidgens nodded along with Paul’s explanation. “Exactly, Emma. The spores and infection healed any injuries or other bodily issues within the span of a song. They numb the pain receptors in the brain and make cells work overtime to multiply, heal, and transform to healthy in a matter of minutes as long as the host is engaged with the Hivemind.” 

“Okay, fine, but I still don’t trust your word with this high-pitched frequency cure shit,” Emma said. 

“It’s like I said yesterday, Emma. Once I had deduced the method of Paul’s escape from the Hive, it was a simple deduction process to determine an effective route of infection elimination en masse with minimal casualties,” Professor Hidgens said. “Previously in my work I studied how small creatures responded to various frequencies in the context of human-generated noise. It was easy enough to modify my apparatus for this purpose and it has worked, I promise you.” 

Emma looked at him reproachfully. “Prove it, asshole.” 

Professor Hidgens inclined his head and then turned back and beckoned Bill forward. 

Bill walked up to them, stopping a short distance away, the bloodstain on his shirt reminding them all of how he’d died and become infected. “Hey Paul, Emma,” he said. 

“Is it really you, Bill?” Paul asked, staring into Bill’s face, trying to discern the color in his eyes. 

“Yeah, it’s me, Paul,” Bill replied, focusing on Paul. “I got shot by my own daughter all because I disagreed with her about Deb, how ridiculous is that?” 

“Bill,” Paul said simply, stepping forward and giving him a big hug. 

Bill hugged him back and when they separated, gave Emma a light pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for supporting me back in the bunker, it meant a lot to me.”

“Sure thing, Bill,” Emma said. 

Ted came up next at Hidgens’s motion. “Paul, Erica.”

“Emma,” she corrected. 

“Gesundheit,” Ted said, smirking at her. 

“You asshole, Ted!” Emma said, still not convinced of everyone being cured so easily. 

“Hey, you know that you’re still not the latte hotte, right?” Ted shot back and winked at her. “Paul may think so but he’s always wrong so just keep that in mind if you ever get to that point with him.” 

Paul slapped Ted on the shoulder and said, “I didn’t think there’d be a day when your horrible Borat impression was something I wanted to hear, but I’m glad you’re okay, Ted.”

“Thanks, Paul, that means...something, I guess,” Ted replied before moving to stand off to the side with Bill. 

Before Professor Hidgens could send another person to them, Emma left Paul’s side and stalked over to the group, rolling pin in hand. 

“Okay, I’m tired of this shit. I want all of you to get in a line, now!” she shouted, wielding her rolling pin like a sword. The rest of the group did as she said, which actually surprised her. 

“Emma, what are you doing?” Paul asked, coming up behind her. 

“I don’t trust him, Paul. You looked fine that first day after but then you still wanted to sing and dance until a good twelve hours after I hit you in the head. So I’m going to make them prove it,” she stated quietly. 

“Okay. I trust your judgement more than mine, so I’ll back you up,” Paul said. 

“Well, Emma?” Professor Hidgens said from the end of the line. “What would you like us to do?”

Emma moved to the middle of the line. “You’re all going to prove to me that you’re human and not infected anymore, including you, Hidgens. I don’t trust that a little frequency hit to the brain would be enough to stop those alien motherfuckers.” 

She tapped the rolling pin against her palm as she spoke, the dull metal thud echoing in the street. “Sing the beginning of The Circle of Life, now!” 

They all scrambled to remember the words. It was a jumbled mess of shouting nonsense words and wrong melodies. The only one with any semblance of the words was Hidgens, but Emma expected that from him, all things considered. After about two minutes of them all flubbing the lyrics and Emma inspecting their eyes as they sang, she cut them off. 

“Okay, okay, okay, that’s enough!” she yelled. 

Everyone stopped singing then, intimidated by the short angry woman pacing in front of them. She turned away from them and Paul leaned in to listen to her. 

“I have to give it Hidgens, somehow he fucking did it,” Emma admitted. 

“Okay, I suppose I do too. It’s definitely less violent than what you did to me,” Paul said.

“I still don’t want them coming to the apartment with us, though. I’d rather we come up with a plan of attack for destroying the meteor for good and then let everyone go their own ways for the night,” Emma mused. 

“I agree. I’ll let you talk, woman in charge,” he said, squeezing her hand in support. 

“Thanks, Paul,” she murmured before turning back to the group and waving Bill and Ted back over. 

“Alright assholes, here’s what’s going to happen. I don’t know what the fuck Hidgens did that worked better than a hit to the head with a bat would do, but none of you sang well at all and your eyes are all regular colors,” she said loudly, pausing as everyone let out the breaths they’d been holding in. 

“But, we’re still not in the clear because even though Paul grenaded the meteor in the Starlight, it didn’t blow up completely and therefore all of us can still get infected. We need to come up with a way to destroy the fucker completely, so if anyone has any ideas, now is the time to share them,” Emma detailed. 

General McNamara held up a finger. “I believe I can help you there, Miss?” 

“Perkins, Emma Perkins,” she said. 

McNamara glanced briefly at Paul, whose ears had turned pink, and continued with his military monotony. “PEIP has an outpost facility on the far side of the pier here in Clivesdale a half mile past the Nantucket bridge. I’m certain there are vehicles and weapons in storage there we can use. There are also several undercover PEIP boats at berth in the Clivesdale Marina.” 

“Good, that’s a good start. Anyone else?” Emma asked. “Hidgens? Any more theories on the spores and how we can protect ourselves from them when we get to the Starlight theater?”

Hidgens perked up from listening. “Hm, yes, well, Paul breathed them in and was singing and dancing within two minutes. I believe full gas masks with particulate matter filters will be the best option to give us the most protection from the spores.” 

“My men used those when rescuing Ms. Perkins and were not infected as long as they were with me while transporting her to the hospital. There should be more in the outpost facility,” Colonel Shaffer said. 

“Okay, so PEIP has weapons, boats, and gas masks for us to use. My main concern, though, is how do we get to the Starlight and the meteor without having to slash our way through our own people?” Paul asked. 

“Non-lethal weapons can be distributed with lethal means reserved for the meteor,” General McNamara answered. 

Emma clapped her hands to bring the focus on her. “Alright so here’s the plan. Everyone gets some sleep tonight and tomorrow we meet at the Clivesdale Marina at eight a.m. sharp. General McNamara and Colonel Shaffer, I assume you can gather up some men to help with loading the weapons and gas masks?” Emma waited for their affirmative nods. “Good, then we’ll load up the boats as soon as everyone is there and then we go to Hatchetfield and straight to the Starlight theater to blow the meteor to fucking bits and then we get the fuck out and call in to PEIP leadership after we’re sure it’s completely destroyed. Any questions?” 

No one said anything, just looked around at each other. 

“Okay, let’s get this shit done. Go find somewhere to stay for the night and try to get some sleep, tomorrow is going to be a long day and I don’t know when we’ll get to sleep again. See you all tomorrow, and be ready for battle,” Emma stated.

“Ma’am,” General McNamara and Colonel Shaffer saluted her, walking away to find some of their cured men. 

Bill walked off with Alice, Charlotte, Ted, and Mr. Davidson, while Nora and Zoey went in another direction. That left Paul and Emma with Professor Hidgens. 

“Do you have somewhere to stay, Professor?” Paul asked before Emma could stop him. 

“Hm? Oh, yes, don’t worry about me. I’ll probably do some more work in the hospital’s lab tonight, actually,” Professor Hidgens responded. “In fact, I’d like to work on my high frequency generator to increase its range in case it will be useful tomorrow. I’m curious to see how the different methods of infection could potentially seed new ideas for curing the apotheosis outside of destroying the meteor. Not a matter for you to worry about, though. I bid you goodnight, until tomorrow.” 

He inclined his head before leaving the street and going into the hospital. 

Paul turned to Emma, who linked her hand with his and gave it a squeeze. “We can do this, Paul, I know we can.” 

“I know. Let’s go home,” Paul said, squeezing her hand back. 

Hatchetfield was an uncharted minefield of infected, but they’d be damned if they wouldn’t try their best to stop the apotheosis for a second time if it meant they could truly save the world and their Midwestern town. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Alrighty folks I hope you liked this chapter! I tried to dive a bit more into the apotheosis/infection theory for y'all, and also still have a bit of cutesy Paul/Emma time. I think I want to be able to use all of the songs from the show, so this may or may not be being extended to 14 chapters. We shall see, but it's a distinct possibility! ;) 
> 
> As always, let me know your thoughts in the comments! Also, if you want to see my streams of thought as I write this (and other fics) give me a follow on Twitter @Madi_HPFT! :)
> 
> ~Madi


	7. Join Us (And Die)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A little ways in there's a tease of ~things~ between Paul/Emma so if you don't like that stuff, skip down about a third of the way down the chapter!

The alarm clock beeped loudly at 6:30 a.m., waking Emma instantly, but Paul didn’t move. She groaned and pushed on his chest. 

“Paul, wake up,” she muttered, pushing on him again. “Paul, wake up, dammit!” 

Paul rolled over, onto Emma, and mumbled something unintelligible. The alarm clock was still going off behind him, and Emma really couldn’t reach over to turn it off now. 

“God dammit Paul, get  _ off _ of me,” Emma said louder, trying to move his dead weight off of her with her one free arm. 

“What? Oh, sorry,” he apologized, rolling back over and hitting the off button on the alarm clock. 

Emma exhaled and massaged her left side, not enjoying having it smashed by him especially because that was her bad leg. “Jeez, now I know  _ not _ to wake you up by shoving you because you’ll just suffocate me.” 

She moved to pull the covers back and get up to prepare for the trek to Hatchetfield, but Paul pulled her into him so they were spooning. His left arm was wrapped firmly around her chest. Emma tried to shift in his arms but he was holding her steady, so all she could do was move her lower body. She pressed closer to him and nearly froze at the feeling against her lower back, but if anything, it just added fuel to the fire burning low in her belly. 

“Paul? What’s, uh, up?” she asked, voice light as she tried not to think about him like that right then. 

“I, uh, I guess I just wanted to have a few minutes with you before we have to leave for Hatchetfield,” Paul answered, speaking softly into her ear. 

“Oh, well, okay,” Emma said, not sure what to do with that statement. “Could you maybe let me breath a little though? You’re holding me kind of tight.” 

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he said, loosening his hold on her. 

Emma tilted her head down to kiss his forearm lightly. He twitched under the sudden contact, making her giggle. 

“Hey, turn around and do that up here,” Paul said, pulling his arm away from her. 

“Well don’t sound so butthurt about it or I won’t,” Emma replied impishly, turning around to face him anyway. 

Their knees knocked as she turned over, sending pain shooting through her thigh and making her wince. Paul’s hand flew to her leg in concern, hand warm on her lower thigh over the bandages. 

“Shit, are you okay, Em?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine, I think the muscles are just sore from the other day still,” Emma shrugged it off. 

He looked back at her, trying to read her expression. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it.” 

She rolled her eyes at him and rested a hand on his cheek, inching her head closer on the pillow. Her heartbeat picked up, and she felt his beating irregularly too. “Come here and kiss me, you dumbass.” 

Paul leaned in and met her halfway, kissing her back passionately. His hand on her thigh slid to the back of her knee so he could hitch her leg over his thigh. Emma curled her fingers into his hair when he made that move, the fire beginning to blaze hotter in her belly. A moan escaped her lips as he ran his hand up the back of her leg to the curve of her ass, and she pressed closer to him. Their kissing grew more frantic, and Paul finally moved down her jawline to kiss her neck. She toyed with the hem of his shirt, running her fingers along his hip bone and the planes of his back muscles. He growled into her neck at her featherlight touch, sending electricity coursing through her. Her breath was ragged as she pulled his head back to hers and kissed him fiercely. 

They were both contemplating certain things when the beeping of the alarm clock chiming 7 a.m. startled them and made their teeth clack together. 

“Ow, fuck,” Emma said, bringing a hand to her jaw. 

“Yup,” Paul agreed, releasing her leg from his grip and turning the alarm off for good. 

Emma dropped her hand and stared into Paul’s eyes, his pupils blown wide with desire as she was certain her own were. She sighed and linked her hand loosely with his, resting them on her hip. Silence fell between them, the air still charged with unspoken feelings. 

“Well, uh, we should probably to get ready to meet everyone at the marina on time,” Paul said forlornly after a minute. 

“Let’s get this shit done, then, yeah?” Emma replied. 

“Yeah,” Paul said. 

She leaned back in for a brief kiss, putting as much intention into it as she could, hoping he got the message for later. When they broke apart, he looked a little dazed, so she considered it a job well done. Pulling the covers back, she crawled out of bed and grabbed her clothes from the other day off the floor and went to the bathroom to change. 

Paul got out of the bed and changed himself, putting his suit pants and dress shirt back on, but putting on a sweatshirt instead of his suit jacket. It would feel disingenuous if he left his clothes here but took a whole other person’s clothes with him. He went out to the living room and shoved his jacket and tie into Emma’s bag, along with her old, blood-spattered work uniform. She came out of the bathroom a few minutes later and happily accepted a slice of peanut butter toast from him, munching on it as she gathered the last of her supplies. 

Throwing the bag over her shoulders and pulling the drawstrings tight, she looked at Paul. “Ready?” 

“Ready.” 

They left the apartment for what they hoped would be the last time, not looking back at the building as they walked away, refusing to think about the implications of them leaving. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When they reached the Clivesdale Marina, General McNamara was already there and speaking with Colonel Shaffer and Professor Hidgens. Some PEIP soldiers were loading equipment into the unmarked boats. Emma was about to speak when Bill, Ted, and Alice showed up with Mr. Davidson and Melissa in tow. Paul went to greet them, leaving Emma on her own. A few minutes later, she saw Nora, Zoey, and the Greenpeace girl ( _ god, what is her name? _ ) come down the gravel road to the dock. 

“Is this everyone, Mr. Matthews?” General McNamara addressed Paul. 

“Uh, yeah, it should be,” Paul answered. 

General Mcnamara nodded and turned to address the whole group. Emma went to stand next to Paul, reaching to hold his hand for comfort. The reality of the situation and the mission they were about to embark upon was hitting everyone. 

“As we all discussed yesterday, here is the plan. We approach Hatchetfield by boat. Everyone is to be outfitted with non-lethal weaponry, bulletproof vests, and full-face gas masks before we step onto shore. We will split into two teams, working our way towards the Starlight Theater in the center of Hatchetfield. Any infected encountered will be knocked unconscious with non-lethal means or Professor Hidgens here will use his high frequency generator to stop the infection in its tracks in the infected persons. Does everyone follow so far?” General McNamara paused, waiting for affirmative head nods. 

“Good. Next, once both teams are a block from the target, we will reassemble and determine the best method of infiltration and subsequent destruction of the meteor based on visual assessment of the theater and any inhabitants. Mr. Matthews and Ms. Perkins will likely be the Hive’s most wanted, so it is imperative to keep them protected at all times. Whoever has the best opportunity will destroy the meteor with the best option available to them, including grenades other explosive devices. We destroy the meteor and get the hell out of there. Then, the PEIP helicopter that we call in will spray a high-temperature and high-pressure disinfectant across the entire target block to kill any remaining spores. Questions?” General McNamara finished. 

Everyone was silent, nodding their heads as they processed the information. 

Colonel Shaffer stepped forward. “Here are the teams General McNamara and I have determined to be the most effective. Team One is the following: Ted, Mr. Davidson, Melissa, Emma, Nora, myself, and four of my PEIP soldiers. Team Two is the following: Bill, Alice, Laura, Paul, Hidgens, Zoey, General McNamara, and three PEIP soldiers.” 

Emma opened her mouth to protest but Paul beat her to it, grasping her hand tightly. 

“No, I won’t split up from Emma,” he said angrily. “Fuck the bullshit you’re about to say about needing to protect us separately, it’s not going to happen.” 

Emma shook her head fervently, and gripped Paul’s forearm for effect.

General McNamara and Colonel Shaffer exchanged a look, faces unreadable. 

“We are aware of your feelings on the situation, but considering you are under the command of PEIP now, this is nonnegotiable,” General McNamara said. 

“Bullshit!” Emma exclaimed. “The only reason you and your PEIP fuckers are even human right now is because of Hidgens, and he was only able to figure out how to cure you all because I hit Paul on the head!” 

She knew that was reaching a bit, but the intention behind it was clear. 

“Emma is right, General McNamara,” Professor Hidgens said, taking a step forward to address the general directly. “If they hadn’t escaped the Hive thanks to Paul’s immense mental strength, I would never have thought to leave myself after he fractured the Hivemind.” 

Professor Hidgens gave Emma a small smile, and she returned one in thanks. 

“Yeah, why would you separate them if you’re keeping me and my daughter together?” Bill chimed in, Alice leaning her head on his shoulder. 

Colonel Shaffer sighed. “Alright then, if you all are that adamant about it, we will change the teams. Laura, you’ll take Emma’s position on my team.” 

The Greenpeace girl nodded meekly.  _ Oh, so that’s her name _ , Emma thought. 

“Okay, let’s do this,” Emma said. “I’m tired of these alien fuckers, it’s time to destroy that meteor and get our town back.” 

Everyone filed onto the boats, the mood somber and serious as they set out for Hatchetfield. It was silent on Lake Michigan aside from the motors of the boats propelling them out towards the island. Ten minutes into the journey, Colonel Shaffer gave the signal to put on the gas masks. Paul helped Emma with hers first before putting on his own. They clasped hands so tight their knuckles were white, the monumentality of their task ahead dawning on them as the Hatchetfield end of the Nantucket Bridge came into view. 

The PEIP soldiers steering the boats cut the motors then, using oars to keep their presence hidden, at least by sound, from any infected watching the shoreline. Waves crashed loudly on the shore as they bumped up to the dock underneath the bridge supports, muffling any noise they made. The PEIP soldiers got out first to secure the boats with ropes, helping the others out as soon as that was done. 

Weapons were handed out next, with everyone receiving a solidly heavy shock baton. Paul apprehensively eyed the grenade belt General McNamara strapped onto his chest. The seven PEIP soldiers along with General McNamara and Colonel Shaffer had their guns and extra ammunition packs in their gear, only unsettling Paul more. Emma squeezed his hand to reassure him, her eyes barely visible in her gas mask. 

General McNamara hand signaled to everyone to move out in their teams. Paul and Emma followed closely behind him, with Hidgens not far behind and the rest maintaining some distance for better coverage of the area. Colonel Shaffer’s team peeled off to the right once they got to street level. 

Team Two moved quickly and quietly through the deserted streets of the downtown part of Hatchetfield, listening intently for any sounds that resembled singing. They passed the butcher shop, the First Hatchetfield Bank, and the family-owned Italian restaurant without seeing or hearing anything besides the sounds of their own feet on the pavement. Seeing the town this quiet and empty was disconcerting to Paul, who’d grown up here all his life with bustling streets and people going about their business all the time. 

They reached the tall glass building where Paul’s office for CCRP Technical was. He half-expected to see some of his fellow building inhabitants to pop out of those glass doors, but when no one did, he took a shaky breath in through his gas mask. Emma also felt unnerved as the green Starbucks sign came into view around the corner. She faltered in her stride as Beanies came into view, looking just as it had when she’d escaped with Paul. Looking back at Zoey, she nodded her head at Beanies as if to ask Zoey how she’d gotten infected, but Zoey shook her head no and gestured ‘later’ at her. Still, there was not a single sign of singing or dancing alien infected people. 

Six blocks from the target is when all hell broke loose. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Paul could see the still-smouldering crater of the Starlight Theater come into view as infected came pouring out of alleyways, singing menacingly. There were at least fifty, if not more, of the infected coming towards them, empty eyes electric blue. 

“Join us, and die! Join us, and die!” the infected townspeople sang, their choreography zombie-like and facial expressions aggressive. 

“Block up, block up!” General McNamara ordered loudly, retreating back to gather Paul and Emma behind him as the rest of the group came up behind them. “Hidgens, use your device now!” 

Professor Hidgens pulled out the high frequency generator and flipped two switches on it, holding it above his head. The infected stopped singing mid-note and dropped to the ground, convulsing and holding their heads. Blue goo came out of their ears and mouths. As soon as he saw none of them reaching for the group, Hidgens turned it off and tucked the device back into his coat. 

“Go, go, go!” General McNamara shouted, pushing Paul ahead of him further down the street. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Team One was going at the Starlight from the western direction, perpendicular to Team Two. 

Ted was a step behind Colonel Shaffer in the center of the street when the glint of the early morning sun off of a parked car on a side street off to their left caught his attention.    


“Nooo!” he shouted as infected came out of the shadows for the group. He raised his baton and turned it on, shocking the first alien to get close to him. 

“Join us, and die!” they chanted, sending chills down Ted’s spine as the memory of Charlotte crashed into his mind. 

“Don’t let them touch you! Hit them as hard as you can!” Colonel Shaffer ordered loudly, wielding her own baton with precision and skill. 

Their group of ten was outnumbered five to one, but they kept hacking at the infected, shocking each and every one of them until they went down. Blue blood and spit was splattered over all of the team as the last infected was shocked to unconsciousness by Melissa. 

“Let’s go before more of them come to find their fallen comrades. Move, move, move!” Colonel Shaffer said, signaling them onwards. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As they pounded the pavement trying to reach the rendezvous point with Team One, Emma’s leg started cramping. She would have fell behind if an adrenaline rush in Paul meant he put her on his back and kept jogging behind General McNamara. 

Everyone’s shock batons were on and fired up, ready to hit any stray infected that came at them, still singing that awful chant. The memory of Sam and Charlotte in Hidgens’ house was heavy in their minds as another infected was struck down. 

General McNamara signaled them inside their rendezvous point, the PEIP soldiers going in first to make a sweep of the building before the civilians went in. They found no one, and they all breathed heavily behind their gas masks. Bill went to take his off but an exclamation from General McNamara stopped him. 

“No! Don’t take it off, we have no way of being sure the spores haven’t spread this far out from the meteor,” his muffled voice came from behind his gas mask. 

Bill took his hand away from the mask and grabbed Alice's hand instead, dragging her further into the room with him. 

“Team One come in. Team Two is at rendezvous. Team One come in, over.” General McNamara spoke into his comm. 

Static filled the silence as they all waited with baited breath for a response. 

“Team Two, affirmative. Team One en route. Five minutes out. Over,” the crackly voice of Colonel Shaffer came through the comm. 

Everyone visibly sagged against the walls when they heard her voice. 

“Affirmative, Team One. Awaiting your arrival, over,” General McNamara said, clicking the comm off. 

“What’s the plan now?” Paul inquired. 

“First we have to assess the situation with Team One, make sure everyone there is still operational,” General McNamara answered. 

“Operational? What the hell does that mean?” Emma asked. 

“It means no one has been re-infected and there are no major wounds to take care of,” McNamara explained. 

“Okay fine. Then what? We charge in guns and batons blazing and hope to god we can get at that damn meteor and that no one fucking dies?” she questioned, arms gesturing wildly. 

Paul grabbed her hand to calm her down. 

“Miss Perkins, once Team One is with us and everyone has been fully assessed, we will determine the best course of action. Considering your leg is still healing, I won’t be hard-pressed to sideline you if necessary. Got it?” McNamara told her coolly. 

Emma shrank a little next to Paul, his threat received loud and clear. 

Team One showed up two minutes later, all unharmed if a bit shaken and out of breath. 

“Ambushed as well?” McNamara asked. 

Colonel Shaffer nodded. “At least fifty infected, but we took all of them down non-lethally.” 

General McNamara nodded his head. “Good, then let’s proceed with the original plan. My team will head straight for the Starlight Theater, with Paul and Emma the leading civilians with me. The Hive really wants the two of you according to Professor Hidgens, so we’re going to make them think you’re available to be taken. Each of you will have two grenades, one for each pocket. I will follow close behind with the PEIP delta squad and Professor Hidgens. Colonel Shaffer will take the rest of my team and hers around to the backside of the theater near the stage door entrance that should still be intact. Paul and Emma, you’re our best chances of getting close enough to that meteor to blow it up. As soon as you see a chance to do it, pull the pin and throw one of your grenades at the meteor.”

“So you’re offering Paul and I as bait,” Emma said.

“Yes. It’s our best option for getting inside the theater with minimal casualties,” General McNamara stated. 

Emma frowned from inside her gas mask, quiet as she took it in. “Okay, then let’s blow this fucker up!”

“Load up and move out in five, teams. Let’s get this son of a bitch alien invasion off our planet,” General McNamara said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well folks, it's getting tense! As always, please let me know what you think in a comment! :) 
> 
> ~Madi


	8. You Tied Up My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's go time at the Starlight Theater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA Paul goes through some shit.

General McNamara handed Paul and Emma their allotted grenades, leaving two still hooked into his belt. They secured them in their jacket pockets and looked to him for the next step.

“Alright, Paul and Emma will be designated as Leads One and Two if speaking over the comms. Delta squad, Hidgens, with me. Everyone else, with Colonel Shaffer,” General McNamara ordered. 

Everyone shuffled around in the suffocatingly small room to be by their assigned leader. Emma gripped Paul’s free hand tightly with her own. 

“We can do this, Emma,” Paul reassured her. 

“Gas mask check! The spores will be all over the target, so any gaps puts you at risk for infection,” Colonel Shaffer said, readjusting her own mask. 

They all followed suit, and Paul double-checked Emma’s just because.

“Okay let’s move out!” General McNamara barked, leading them all out of the building and back into the eerily quiet and empty street. 

Paul and Emma followed close behind him, with the PEIP Delta squad and Professor Hidgens next, weapons raised and scanning every shadowed corner and alleyway for lurking infected. Paul had to resist the urge to look behind him for his friends with Colonel Shaffer. Nothing jumped out at them as they cautiously continued down the street. 

“Where the hell are they?” Emma hissed to Paul. 

“I don’t know, but it can’t be good that we aren’t seeing any infected right now,” he replied quietly. 

General McNamara held up a fist, bringing them to a halt in the middle of the street. Emma peered at the half-destroyed Starlight theater at the end of the block less than a hundred feet away, not seeing whatever McNamara had seen. Dread came over her as her ears picked up the sound of a song. A song that came from inside the theater. Paul exchanged a fearful look with Emma. They stepped up next to McNamara. 

“Okay you two, it’s go time. Remember, get as close as you can, and if you lose your mask, don’t breathe in the spores or you’ll become infected and the Hive will get what they want. We’ll be right behind you. Good luck,” McNamara said, tapping his gun once before turning back to join the Delta squad. 

Emma nodded to Paul and started walking towards the Starlight. Paul fell into step beside her, grabbing her hand and holding it tightly, the shock baton held loosely in his other hand. His heartbeat increased as they approached the theater. The glass main doors were surprisingly still completely intact and on their hinges, one of them slightly ajar. Paul thought he there was a slight blue haze to the air coming out of the theater, but he didn’t want to frighten Emma more than she already was. The song was louder now, but no one appeared to them through the glass; clearly they were deeper inside the building. 

He slowly opened the door and followed Emma inside to the lobby. His eyes definitely hadn’t deceived him, though--blue spores filled the air around them, almost like the dust particles floating in the rays of sun coming through the windows in his apartment as the sun set. Seeing the spores set off a visceral reaction in him. Paul had to consciously will himself not to remove his gas mask to puke. He tried to take a few breaths to calm himself down as the memory of his first, failed attempt reared its ugly head.

The double doors to the theater directly ahead of them were blown wide open, but the angle down to the stage was too steep for either of them to see into the theater properly. Emma had one hand in her jacket pocket and the other was gripping her baton tightly as she limped towards the doors, and towards the singing. 

“God we were young once, innocent and fun once,” voices sang in perfect harmony. 

Emma gasped as the stage came into view, Paul bumping into her as she stopped halfway down the aisle. The meteor was still smoldering, blue goo glowing and splattered everywhere from where Paul’s original grenade had blown it up. She craned her neck back to see at least two hundred infected sitting in the balcony seats, singing. More infected were standing in clusters around the stage, facing her and Paul, each and every single one with glowing blue eyes. 

They ceased singing when Emma banged her baton repeatedly against the seat in front of her. All of them turned to look at the newcomers; one small and clearly in charge, the other a familiar yet frightened face.

“Alright motherfuckers, what do you want?” she yelled. “Do you want me and Paul? Well guess what, you can have us, you alien assholes!” 

“Emma, what the fuck are you doing?” Paul asked her anxiously, eyes flitting from one infected to the next. 

“Just trust me, Paul,” Emma shot back. 

One of the infected, a community college student based on their sweatshirt that had “Hatchetfield Community College” printed on it, on stage stepped forward rhythmically until they were not ten feet away from Paul and Emma. 

“Join us, and we’ll take away your pain, we’ll set you free,” the college student intoned, beckoning to them. 

She went to limp forward towards the student, but Paul grabbed her wrist, holding her back. “Don’t fucking do it, Emma, they’re going to infect you and make you sing and dance! What is wrong with you?” 

“You see, that’s the thing, Paul,” she replied coolly, still facing the college student, “they don’t have to infect me.” 

“What?” he asked, stomach dropping. 

Emma turned to face him and pulled her gas mask off, bending over to fix her hair from the straps getting caught in it. 

“What the fuck are you doing? Put that back on!” he exclaimed in horror.

“I’m doing what I want, Paul,” she said, lifting her head and staring at him with ice blue eyes. “And as for what I want? Well. What I want, is for you to join me.” 

“NO!” he cried out. 

She reached for his gas mask but Paul was quick and shocked her in the stomach with his baton, sending her convulsing down to the floor. “I can’t lose you too, Emma!” 

He waited to make sure she wasn’t actually going to pop right back up before turning his attention back to the stage and the college student still reaching for him. Paul could feel an anxiety attack coming on, faced as he was again with nearly the same scene he had been six days ago. An alien invasion taking over his town with him having to risk his life to save it. And hope to god he didn’t fuck it up. Again. This time, though, he really truly had to save Emma. 

“Just free up your heart, Paul. You can join us, join the Hive, and you can join her like you want her,” the college student said. 

“No. No. No!” he muttered, feeling for the grenade in his pocket and hooking his first finger into the ring holding the pin. “It doesn’t matter what I want right now! What matters is that I’m going to fucking blow you up!” 

“You wouldn’t do that, Paul,” the student’s eyes glittered in the morning sun peeking into the gaping hole of the theater’s roof. “You tied us up here, when all we want to do is free the whole world’s hearts!”

Paul could only hope that by now General McNamara and Colonel Shaffer were all in position as he had no way of contacting them. He felt suffocated by the gas mask but knew if he took it off he’d succumb instantly to the spores again. Fighting through his fear, he eyed the meteor more closely and took a couple of steps forward down the aisle. The spores were floating through the air, almost with purpose, towards him now. His presence must have threatened the Hive mind after his breakaway. Thankfully the mask’s filter was woven tightly enough not a single spore could get through it. 

“Bullshit! I hated being in the Hive! The world’s not free when there’s no free will left to humanity,” Paul said, gripping the grenade tighter in his pocket. 

The college student rose and sang-spoke, “Just let it out, Paul! Tell us what you want! You were such a good boy about it last time.”

“Yeah and look where that fucking got me! I’m back here again with one less good thing in my life all thanks to you alien motherfuckers!” he shouted, anger rising over his fear now. 

His vision was quickly limited by the swarm of blue alien spores surrounding him, trying to find a way to get inside his protective gas mask. He swatted away at them with hardly any effectiveness. From up in the balcony, he heard the infected singing the beginning notes of that damned song that infected him. 

_ Fuck it, they’re not here so I’m going for it, _ Paul thought. He dropped his baton on the floor and strode to the stage, adrenaline coursing through his entire body. 

“Just let it out, let it out, let it out! We will not be resisted!” the balcony belted, dancing along in their seats. 

“NEVER!” Paul roared.

He took the grenade out of his pocket and pulled the pin in one smooth motion, launching it at the meteor now mere feet from him. The second grenade followed less than ten seconds later. The infected were screaming now, mass fear enveloping all of them as the Hivemind fragmented. Paul barely had time to turn around and fling himself down to the ground, covering Emma with his body, before they exploded and everything went black. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

General McNamara and Professor Hidgens were crouched just out of sight of the ajar main doors to the Starlight, waiting for any sort of non-singing to come from inside. Paul and Emma had entered three minutes ago, and it was silent aside from the quiet song they’d heard earlier still going on. The Delta squad was prepared with weapons set to launch taser bullets that would stun the target and render them unconscious after fifteen seconds across the way from the entrance behind a parked car. Professor Hidgens had been eyeing the weapon ever since they’d unstrapped them from their backs at the rendezvous point, thinking about how good of an addition to his apocalypse survival kit it would be.

Too bad the fucking apocalypse was happening now. 

Professor Hidgens turned his focus back to the main doors of the theater -- a banging sound came from inside that sounded like something was being hit. General McNamara signalled to the Delta squad and they moved closer to the entrance into a formation for maximum coverage. Blue spores came floating out through the doors, and everyone visibly recoiled. 

“Steady, everyone, steady. Hidgens, have that frequency generator ready,” McNamara said gruffly, peering into the glass doors. 

The singing had stopped with no accompanying explosion, and that worried him greatly. They had been in there too long, they were going to be infected and blow the whole plan to bits. 

A few agonizingly silent minutes went by before a shout that sounded very much like Paul in distress echoed out into the lobby where McNamara and Hidgens could hear it. 

“Not yet,” General McNamara grabbed Hidgens by the wrist as he moved to go inside. “Give them three more minutes.” 

Hidgens nodded and settled back into a crouch, finger hovering over the switch on his frequency generator. Two minutes passed and then another strangled shout from Paul floated out on the spore-heavy air. 

Ten seconds. McNamara adjusted his grip on his gun. 

Five seconds. Hidgens felt sweat dripping down his forehead into his mask. 

0 seconds. An explosion rocked the ground, quickly followed by a second one. 

General McNamara grabbed Professor Hidgens by the sleeve and pulled him away from the side of the building and towards the center of the street. More of the Starlight crumbled and fell apart, but the structure remained standing. Hidgens was breathing heavily, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he waited for instructions. The blue spores fell to the ground, coating it in a slimy blue goo, and the dust from the explosion started coating everything.

As the dust settled, Hidgens strained his ears for any signs of singing or cries for help. General McNamara was muttering into his comm, checking in with Colonel Shaffer and the rest of the team. He just hoped to god that his favorite student wasn’t dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for such a long time between updates, guys! I was traveling over the holiday weekend at the end of May and then had to wrap up the quarter/school year this week, so there wasn't much time for writing. I also wanted to make sure I got this right, so I took a bit of time to do some light editing as well on this chapter. 
> 
> As always, PLEASE let me know what you think in a comment! Any ideas for where you think it might be going next? 
> 
> ~Madi


	9. Show Me Your Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of the second meteor grenading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys, so sorry for the long delay on this chapter! The end of the quarter came up and then I was just struggling with where I wanted this chapter to go, so it took a while. But it's finally here, so enjoy! :)
> 
> Also, mention of hyperventilating/panic attack about 1/3 of the way through.

“Do you have a visual on Lead One or Two?” General McNamara spoke into the comm as Hidgens peered through the dust-filled air into the Starlight Theater. 

“Negative. Clearing debris by the stage door now,” Colonel Shaffer’s voice crackled through the comm. 

“Affirmative, await orders to enter,” McNamara responded. 

“Confirmed,” Shaffer said. 

Professor Hidgens frowned as he looked through the glass doors. The blue spores congealed on the floor worried him more now than they had when they were floating freely in the air. On the ground, they looked like the slime he’d investigated in his lab, and if that was dangerous then, who knew what it was like now. He turned his attention back to General McNamara, who was instructing the Delta squad. 

“You five will maintain a perimeter around the front of the theater. Colonel Shaffer has the back and stage door exit covered. Ace, Monty, you’ll follow myself and Hidgens into the theater for rescue and extraction. Form up,” McNamara ordered. “Hidgens, get your signal generator primed, we’re going in.” 

He swallowed thickly and pulled the generator back out of his pocket after adjusting the straps on his gas mask. At General McNamara’s command, Ace opened the door and ushered the other three inside the theater. His hearing was muffled by the sound of his own heavy breathing as he scanned the lobby. The doors to the theater were blown open nearly off their hinges, but he couldn’t tell whether they were like that from the initial meteor strike or either of Paul’s grenade strikes. 

“Watch your step, the spores are thick on the floor here,” McNamara said as his boot squeaked on the tile floor. 

They stepped carefully, weapons up and eyes clear and focused through the gas masks. McNamara led the way into the theater space, taking small steps down the carpeted aisle so as not to slide on the blue goo. Hidgens followed closely behind, finger twitching against the trigger on the frequency generator. The stage was completely destroyed, with a good portion of the first few rows as well, and more of the interior structure had fallen down into the seats and aisles. 

There was no sign of the meteor, and Hidgens breathed a little easier -- he’d remembered how it looked after Paul’s first attempt, but now there was just a smoldering hole where it had landed. 

“Visual on Lead Two. Repeat, visual on Lead Two!” General McNamara shouted, moving down the aisle more quickly towards a pile of splintered wood from the stage. 

Ace and Monty pushed Hidgens down with them, and it was only when McNamara crouched down that he saw her. 

Emma’s lower half was buried underneath the edge of the huge pile of rubble, and he could see some dark blood staining her pants from a multitude of cuts from the falling wood on her. The only reason she wasn’t totally buried was because her top half was protected by the row of seats she’d fallen to the floor in. McNamara saw her chest rise and fall, and let out an imperceptible breath he’d been holding, thanking the heavens above that she was still alive. 

“Ace, help me lift this beam off her. Hidgens, when I say so, slide Emma  _ carefully _ further into the row,” General McNamara instructed. 

Hidgens moved to standing in the aisle and grasped Emma’s limp wrists. 

“One, two, three, lift!” McNamara grunted as they leveraged the beam up. “Now!”

He quickly pulled Emma by the wrists until she was fully laying in the row, on top of two non-goo-covered boards. McNamara and Ace let the beam fall with a thud to the floor. She was still unconscious, and his heart ached for her and the pain she had to be in. 

“Where’s Paul?” Professor Hidgens anxiously asked, trying to spot his white shirt somewhere in the mess. 

Monty climbed over the front three rows to where the front of the stage was supposed to be, looking at it from the other side. “No visual here,” he said. 

“Dammit we need to find him!” Hidgens exploded, going for the pile of broken wood and flinging pieces off into the empty seats. 

“Keep it together, man!” McNamara grabbed Hidgens’s wrist firmly, stopping his efforts to move the debris. “Ace, Monty. Clear the rest of the theater.” 

The two of them muttered “Yes, sir,” and went through the remainder of the large theater, guns up and eyes alert. Ace left to check the balcony, while Monty combed the rest of the orchestra seats and what was left of the backstage and dressing room areas. 

General McNamara released his hold on Hidgens and helped him move some of the rubble, the silence only punctuated by their grunts at particularly heavy pieces. They’d only moved a few pieces when a shout from above drew their attention. 

“Sir, you’re not going to like this!” Ace shouted, standing at the edge of the balcony. “There’s at least two hundred unconscious infected up here!” 

“Confirm Paul is not among them and get back down here immediately!” McNamara commanded. “We have no idea if they’ll wake up again or not so complete your task as quickly as possible, soldier.” 

Ace nodded and Hidgens watched as the poor man had to weave his way over the slumped bodies, looking for Paul. His nerves were on fire now, and he didn’t want to have to break out the frequency generator again if he didn’t have to. He didn’t even want to think about how Emma’s blood was so dark and what that could mean and why couldn’t they find Paul and what was he going to do if his favorite student was infected and what if this was all just a giant trap by the Hive and--

Professor Hidgens was pulled from his spiraling thoughts by General McNamara clapping him firmly on the shoulder.    


“Let’s keep looking for Paul,” McNamara said gruffly, shifting another heavy wooden beam off to the side of the pile. 

Hidgens nodded once and took a shaky breath in through his gas mask. McNamara had him help move another beam off the pile to reveal smaller pieces of wood and plaster from the stage. He started digging through some of the plaster and wood and froze when he felt his hand brush something decidedly not wood or plaster. 

“What is it, Hidgens?” McNamara asked, stepping closer to peer at where Hidgens’s hand was frozen in place. 

When he saw the telltale fabric of Paul’s white shirt underneath the shaking fingers of Hidgens’s hand, McNamara shot into action. “Visual on Lead One!” he shouted into the theater as he started throwing more of the debris to clear it away from Paul as quickly as possible. 

It took a few seconds for Hidgens to regain control of himself and help McNamara with the task at hand. As more of Paul was revealed, red and blue stains appeared further up on his shirt. This made Hidgens go weak at the knees, and he held onto the piece of wood he had been about to toss. 

Emma had dark reddish-purple blood on her clothes too, what if both of them got infected? What if they were both truly dead and gone now and he couldn’t do a damn thing to save them? What if all their efforts to blow up the meteor didn’t actually end the Hive? What if the Hive was just lying in wait until they were all in the theater to trap them and turn them all once more? Was this all futile and the apocalypse still ongoing? Hidgens dropped to the ground, hard, hands now covering his ears as he rocked back and forth as panic consumed him. 

General McNamara removed another piece of wood, either oblivious or ignoring Hidgens hyperventilating on the ground, trying to get as much of Paul visible as possible to assess any injuries he could have. What Hidgens didn’t see was the very shallow movement of Paul’s chest -- he was still breathing, meaning he was alive, just unconscious. He slid the last piece of fractured wood from over Paul’s head and neck and was surprised to see Paul’s gas mask still firmly on his face, especially considering the amount of debris he’d been piled under and what was surely a huge amount of force from the explosion. With a quick visual assessment, McNamara deemed Paul to be in no immediate danger of bleeding out or otherwise dying on them. 

Monty came huffing back as McNamara had cleared a path through the debris to move Paul. “Backstage is all clear, sir. I also moved some debris from near the stage door entrance for Colonel Shaffer, sir.” 

“Good, thank you, Monty. Help me move Paul, grab under his arms and lift when I say so,” McNamara instructed. 

The soldier did as he was told, lifting Paul’s dead weight in one smooth motion to waist level to match General McNamara. Monty adjusted his grip, his hands slick on the still wet blood soaking Paul’s shirt. He swallowed thickly behind the gas mask, tamping down his fear and worry of being infected from touching it. 

“Okay, we’re going to move him to the row behind Emma onto the boards there. One, two, three, go,” General McNamara said, grunting with the effort of moving Paul, who was at least six inches taller and thirty pounds heavier than himself. 

They shuffled him over to the row of seats and set him down on the floor carefully. Once he was sure that Paul was okay, McNamara sent Monty to calm Hidgens, who was still rocking back and forth and mumbling incoherently as he stared at Emma and Paul’s unconscious bodies. Ace finally reappeared from the balcony, the gas mask obscuring any emotions he was feeling at seeing so many unconscious infected up there. 

“Confirmation on debris clearing?” McNamara spoke into the comm, nodding at Ace’s arrival. 

“Affirmative, entry is open. Awaiting your command, over,” Colonel Shaffer replied.

“Proceed to enter, we have both Leads in our care, over and out,” he said. 

“Delta squad, remain in position until I give the all clear,” McNamara said after switching channels on the comm. 

“Affirmative, over,” the leader of the squad answered. 

McNamara clicked the comm off and looked over at Monty and Hidgens, who were speaking quietly and calmly now that Hidgens had gotten his panic attack under control with Monty’s help. This situation could be rattling for anyone, let alone trained soldiers, so McNamara didn’t blame him one bit for freaking out. Ace was standing guard by Paul and Emma, awaiting further instruction from General McNamara. 

A few minutes later Colonel Shaffer was leading the rest of the Hatchetfield citizens into the theater from the stage door entrance. Hidgens heard the gasps from his fellow civilians and dropped his hands down to his sides as he rose from his sitting position on the floor. Their astonishment at the destruction was nothing compared to their reactions when they saw Paul and Emma lying unconscious in the seats. 

“Oh my god, Paul!” Bill cried out, rushing over to his best friend. 

“Emma!” Nora gasped, crouching down to look at her employee with great concern. 

Alice leaned into Melissa’s comforting embrace. Ted ran a hand through his hair, eyes wide as he took in his bloodied friends. Zoey simply stood there next to Laura and Mr. Davidson, all three of their mouths open in shock and eyes showing pain. Professor Hidgens was honestly surprised at how much all of them were affected by seeing Paul and Emma -- he hadn’t known any of them to be particularly close to either of the two unconscious people outside of Bill’s clear friendship with Paul. 

“Are they dead?” Melissa voiced quietly. 

Professor Hidgens shook his head and coughed out a “No, just unconscious.” 

This reassured her only a little bit, and he could see the pressure of her grip on Alice’s shoulder grow tighter. 

Colonel Shaffer and General McNamara were discussing strategy with their pooled information while everyone else stared at their unconscious friends. 

“I’m concerned about Lead Two -- her placement suggests that she was not part of the grenade launch, and both of her grenades are still intact in her pockets. Lead One was closer to the stage and both of his grenades were obviously used,” General McNamara mused. 

“Are you suggesting Lead Two was infected but hiding it from us?” Colonel Shaffer asked. 

General McNamara nodded. “Affirmative. It would make sense from what I heard outside the theater just before the explosion. I knew that damn leg wound of hers was going to cause us trouble, and her gas mask is nowhere to be found. It’s a definite possibility.” 

“What are you suggesting we do after we clear the island then, sir? Lock everyone up, including ourselves, in a quarantine for an indefinite amount of time until PEIP is sure the infection is completely gone from everyone? They aren’t going to like it, especially if we have to put up well over two hundred people from the theater, let alone anyone else still alive in Hatchetfield and Clivesdale,” Colonel Shaffer replied. 

“I know, but it’s our best shot at defeating these alien invaders. Hidgens’s frequency generator is really a stroke of luck, and we can use it to speed up the clearing process,” McNamara said, resting a hand on his hip in frustration. “We need to move both Leads out of here without injuring them more and get that chopper in here.” 

“Understood. Do you think either of them will wake up when we move them out?” Shaffer queried. 

“It’s very unlikely. Let’s just hope they’re unconscious until we’re off this island and in quarantine at PEIP headquarters in Michigan,” McNamara answered gruffly. 

Colonel Shaffer nodded resolutely and joined Ace and Monty by Paul and Emma, checking in with the two of them. 

General McNamara sighed and scraped the blue goo on his boot off on the armrest of the nearest theater seat. If he was being honest, the congealing of the spores on the floor frightened him as much as it did Hidgens. He glanced over at his two near-sacrifices for the human race and fingered the gun in its holster at his hip. This was definitely not how he’d planned for stopping the apocalypse to go. 

With a deep breath in, he moved his hand from his gun and clapped loudly to get everyone’s attention. It was time to end this once and for all. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Paul woke up to the sound of helicopter blades whirring around him. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision but everything stayed blurry around the edges, and he couldn’t move any part of his body, so tightly strapped down as he was. General McNamara was looming in and out of his line of sight directly above him, having noticed Paul was now conscious. He couldn’t tell what the General was saying though, the noise was too much for him to make anything out. Soon enough he succumbed back to unconsciousness as the helicopter took all of them away from Hatchetfield. Checking for Emma’s presence in the helicopter with him hadn’t even crossed his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There it is, folks! Please let me know what you think! This was a tough chapter to write and I think it was primarily due to it's placement in the fic plus the fact that the two main characters are unconscious the whole time, so that lends itself to no banter fun times only serious PEIP and Hidgens stuff, lol. Questions, comments, concerns are always welcome, as are prompts for other fics! :) 
> 
> I'm hoping to get the last few chapters out more quickly now that I'm over this hurdle -- 5 more to go to wrap up the whole album! 
> 
> ~Madi


	10. Cup of Poisoned Coffee

Paul was jolted awake again when the helicopter landed roughly on a hospital helipad somewhere that was definitely not Hatchetfield or Clivesdale. He groaned as the stretcher he was strapped tightly onto was taken off the helicopter and inside the building. Bright white lights flashed above him as they passed down the hallway, but his neck was secured and he couldn’t twist his head to look elsewhere. The black beret and ponytail of General McNamara bounced in Paul’s vision. A nurse was talking loudly off to his left, but it was too fast for him to make out. 

_ Where was Emma? Why wasn’t she with him? Did they know about her? What if they didn’t know about her? I have to tell them! _

He struggled in his restraints and coughed, trying to speak. The nurse shouted at someone else nearby and they injected Paul with something. General McNamara turned to look at Paul and had them slow the movement of the stretcher so he could listen more clearly to him. 

“Em...Emma...infec...infected...not safe,” Paul stuttered out, his throat raw and dry. 

“Emma’s fine, she’s coming right after you, Matthews,” McNamara replied, brow furrowing in confusion. 

“No!” Paul choked out. “Emma is infected...not safe here!” 

The color drained from McNamara’s face and he held up a hand to stop them moving completely, not caring that they were blocking the rest of the hallway. “All the blood on her clothes was red. How are you so sure, Matthews?” 

Paul cleared his throat. “Eyes...blue...glow.”

McNamara gave him a firm nod and a light pat on the shoulder to acknowledge his acceptance of Paul’s words. 

As Paul’s vision began to swim, McNamara gruffly said, “Thank you, Paul. We’ll handle it with the utmost care. We’ll save her and the rest of Hatchetfield yet.” 

A grim expression on the general’s face was the last thing he saw before he succumbed to the sedative and a dreamless darkness. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hidgens anxiously sat outside the adjoining rooms where they’d shuttled Paul and Emma to after initial assessments had been completed. There was a clean room outside the doorway, meaning everyone had to put on full body white jumpsuits and masks to enter their room. 

The PEIP nurses and doctors had been efficient with their checks on the rest of the Starlight Theater meteor-destruction party, clearing all of them within the hour. Bill and Alice had gone with Melissa and Ted to a waiting area with food the next floor down. Zoey was sitting a couple of chairs down from him, leaning her head on Laura’s shoulder, clearly still in shock from the whole ordeal. Mr. Davidson was speaking with Colonel Shaffer somewhat agitatedly. 

PEIP officers in their customary black uniforms strode past Hidgens constantly, all of them busy with this or that, some accompanied by nurses or doctors in purple or green scrubs. The chatter was just arhythmic enough that it didn’t cause him anxiety, but the flurry of activity still going on in Paul and Emma’s rooms was definitely increasing his anxiety levels. 

General McNamara had disappeared as soon as they’d gotten everyone through checks or into quarantine, which worried Hidgens. Clearly he had more information than Hidgens, because he’d said something to the attending doctor once they got to the floor and they’d sprung into quarantine procedure faster than he’d ever seen before. Hidgens had wanted to check on Emma but could only watch as they wheeled her stretcher past him into the room where she now lay unconscious in a hospital bed far too large for her small frame. 

Seeing her like that, the dark circles under eyes and hooked up to all sorts of machines, leg elevated and thigh firmly wrapped and covered with a thick blanket dropped a weight into the bottom of his stomach. She had a large bump forming on her forehead from where she must have hit the seats after falling, and it was a nasty purplish-red color that Hidgens could see from the observation window. Most of her hair had escaped the messy bun now, and she looked more like a child to him now than she even had when she’d burst into his office with a huge smile on her face after ace-ing one of his exams. 

Hidgens was just about to go up to a nurse that was exiting the clean room and ask her questions when he saw the telltale beret and ponytail of General McNamara appear from around the corner. 

“General McNamara!” Professor Hidgens called out over the hubbub, waving a hand to get his attention. 

General McNamara finished scribbling on the clipboard he was holding and handed it off to the nurse at the desk before making his way over to Hidgens. 

“How can I help you, Professor?” he asked. 

“It’s about Emma and Paul, sir. What happened? Why are they in quarantine when the rest of us got cleared?” Hidgens asked. 

McNamara rested a hand on his empty holster, his tell of discomfort. “Paul was conscious for a few minutes on the way inside, and he told me that Miss Perkins had been infected. He confirmed her eyes glowed blue before the meteor explosion, so this is all necessary procedure to ensure everyone’s safety,  _ including them _ . We’ll get them sorted out soon enough, don’t you worry, Hidgens.” 

General McNamara turned on his heel and went to talk to Colonel Shaffer, leaving Hidgens hanging for support. Breaths came in spurts at the knowledge, and he felt his way down to the chair against the wall and bent over, putting his head between his knees. 

He gasped for air as the news sunk in that Emma had gotten infected, that Paul maybe was too still, that all their effort to blow up the meteor maybe didn’t end the alien invasion at all and maybe they all had gotten reinfected but just didn’t show symptoms yet maybe the spores had evolved and the infection presented differently and maybe it was going to ruin the whole country and the whole world now and there was nothing he could do to stop it nothing nothing nothing

“Hidgens!” 

His head snapped up at his name and he gulped in air as Nora sprinted over and knelt on the ground next to him, having been the one to call his name. 

“Hidgens, listen to me, okay? We’re going to breathe together in counts of four, okay?” she said soothingly, holding up her right hand for counting. “Ready? Breathe in, one, two, three, four, and breathe out, one, two, three four. Breathe in, one, two, three, four, and breathe out, one, two, three, four.” 

They breathed together until Hidgens felt okay again and gratefully accepted a hand squeeze from Nora. 

“Thank you, Nora,” he said quietly, not quite able to meet her eyes. “I just couldn’t imagine losing Emma and Paul after all we’ve done these last couple of days.” 

She smiled sadly at him and rocked back onto her heels. “I may have been kind of a shitty boss to Emma at Beanies, but I could tell you two had a special relationship and want what’s best for her too. We just need to do all we can to help PEIP and Paul and Emma recover, okay? We’ll do it together.” 

“Together,” he affirmed, sitting back up fully and exhaling loudly. 

Nora stood up and returned to her seat by Zoey and Laura, giving him a thumbs up after she sat down. 

Everything was going to be fine. Paul was going to be fine. Emma was going to be fine. They were all going to be fine. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After Paul’s baton had shocked her and her head hitting the theater seat knocked her out, Emma woke up to find herelf in a very odd place indeed. 

It looked like Hatchetfield, except it wasn’t Hatchetfield, not exactly. The sky was blue, but everything else seemed to be tinted blue, almost like she was wearing those old red and blue 3-D glasses. She was wearing her shitty flats and Beanies uniform, green apron and all, but she was standing outside of a very much intact Starlight Theater. 

_ This had to be some sort of freaky dream, right? _

The marquee out front should have said “Mamma Mia: Tonight 8 PM” but instead what she read glued her feet to the ground. 

**Now Showing:**

The Tragic Tale of Emma Perkins

She gulped and forced herself to step forward through those damned glass doors and entering the theater. It was eerily quiet until she opened the door to the theater, and a hush went over the full crowd waiting expectantly, only a single unoccupied seat left in the house. Everyone turned to look at her, eyes electric blue and devoid of life. Now unable to control her movements, she stumbled down the aisle to the front row and sat down roughly in the open seat, fearful of what was going to happen. 

Music started coming from the pit and the curtain rose on a set made to look like Beanies. An actress who looked very similar to Emma was pretending to take a rude man’s ridiculous coffee order. Horror seeped into every pore of her being as she realized it was her life over the past five days being replayed for all of these infected to watch like it was some sort of fictional show. She felt like throwing up, but when she tried to get up from her seat, an arm slapped across her chest like a baseball bat and held her in place. 

Lights went down and there was a shuffling onstage in the darkness. When they came back on, music was cued and the shitty tip song and dance she’d had to learn was being executed with perfect harmony and precision by the three actresses on stage. The buffoon they had playing Paul was gesticulating wildly at the Emma actress. One of them handed her a cup full of actual coffee from onstage, and she nearly dropped it as if it had burned her hand. When the song ended and the other two stage baristas began talking in unison, she really began to freak out. 

“Everyone’s had their coffee, soon their apotheosis will be upon them,” they said in sync. 

“What did you do to their coffee?” actress Emma exclaimed, grabbing the espresso maker and pulling out blue goo. “Fucking gross!” 

She flung the goo out into the audience, some of it landing directly in the coffee cup Emma was holding. Emma shrieked and tossed the cup to the floor and sprinted out of the theater, shoving off all the hands that grabbed at her along the way. Bursting out of the front doors of the Starlight, she stopped in her tracks at the sight before her. 

Standing hunched over with red and blue blood stains all over his shirt blocking her escape down the street was Paul. It wasn’t her Paul, though, because his normally pale blue eyes were glowing and blue goo spilled from the corner of his mouth. 

“Get away from me, you’re not Paul, you’re one of them!” she shouted, clenching her hands into fists.

She blinked and the two of them were now standing outside Beanies, still facing off ten feet apart. 

“Don’t you want a cup of coffee to wake up, Emma?” Paul said in a lilting voice. 

“Yes, I do want to wake up, Paul,” she said cautiously, inching towards the door of the cafe. 

“Get your cup of poisoned coffee,” he hummed, stepping back slowly to allow her to enter the cafe. 

Emma kept her eyes locked on him until she felt the cool metal of the handle on the door against her outstretched hand. She pushed the door open behind her and stepped inside, not breaking eye contact; at least, until she blinked and he was gone when she opened her eyes. She whirled around to scan the coffee shop for infected but it was absolutely empty. Quickly she ran to the counter and checked all of the coffee makers and espresso machines for that nasty blue goo she’d found in real life after the tip song performance. A squeak escaped her lips as she found an alarming amount of it in the container that usually contained milk in the fridge below the espresso maker. It wasn’t moving though, so she set it on the counter and stared at it.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to come to a decision on what to do. Either she was well and truly dead and trapped in some shitty replay of her life for all eternity, or she was unconscious and maybe infected but not fully like Paul and all of them had been. How was she here then, if she was unconscious? Was this the show the Hivemind decided to put on to convince her to fully join them? How was this even possible? 

A shooting pain in her leg drew her attention down to the bandages wrapped around her thigh. With fervor she ripped them off and inspected the wound from the rebar. Her hand froze mid-reach to dump the bandages as she realized why this reality-dream-subconscious state felt so real. 

The remains of the wound were glowing blue. 

_ Fuck fuck fuck how did this happen, what’s going to happen to me, oh god did I hurt Paul in the Starlight, oh shit oh shit oh shit! _

She collapsed to the floor and gasped for air as the realization sunk in. The Hive started humming, and Emma clapped her hands over her ears, trying to block out the sound. It did nothing, because the Hive was in her mind, and she was trapped, doomed to be part of this musical world forever, conscious or unconscious. Her screams mingled with the song until she finally lost breath and passed out on the floor of Beanies. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Paul returned to wakefulness by way of a needle being jabbed forcefully into his elbow by a nurse in a full-body containment suit and face mask. He jolted when her cold gloves touched his wrist. She turned to look at him, and, seeing his eyes were open, immediately pushed a button out of his limited reach and took two large steps away from his bed. 

He tried to ask her what was going on, but found that he couldn’t really say anything due to the mask over his mouth that muffled anything he tried to say. His wrists and ankles were bound with soft, padded cuffs, and he also felt something tight around his middle as he shifted around on the hospital bed, trying to gather his bearings. The sound of heavy boots coming from the door had him turning his head to look at the new person. 

Before his eyes made it to the door, however, he caught sight of Emma lying pretty lifeless in the bed not ten feet from him. He struggled against his restraints seeing all of the tubes and wires she was hooked up to, her small frame drowning in the overlarge hospital gown and bed. A strangled noise ripped itself from his throat. 

“Nurse, sedate him!” a male voice ordered. “We can’t question him like this!” 

“Yes sir,” the nurse in the full body suit replied and stuck Paul’s arm with another needle and before he could count to five his vision faded to black and he was swimming in a pool of deep dark nothingness. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Some time had clearly passed after his sedation, because when he regained consciousness, he wasn’t in the same room and Emma was nowhere to be found. He pulled against the restraints around his wrists again, but gave up quickly when searing pain shot through his stomach. Groaning, he looked around the new space, trying to figure out where he’d been taken. 

He faced directly out a window that was clearly high up in the building, as he hardly even saw any rooftops of shorter buildings. It wasn’t Clivesdale or Hatchetfield’s hospitals, that was certain -- both of those buildings were six stories tall maximum, and this was definitely more like twelve stories. The door to the room was behind him, a fact that deeply unsettled him, being in the restrained and muted state that he was. It was a small room too, and the claustrophobia was starting to set in mixed with his anxiety about Emma, and it was not a good feeling at all.

The door abruptly opened and a single pair of heavy boots entered the room judging by the sound of retreating, softer footsteps Paul heard before the door closed. 

“Sorry for knocking you out there son, we had to take all precautions when you started flailing about,” General McNamara’s telltale drawl came from Paul’s right. 

Paul turned his head to glare at the man. 

McNamara sighed. “The gag-mask is meant to stop any potential singing that may still come from you to awaken latent infection in others that we couldn’t detect. We couldn’t determine if you were infected or not in the fallout from the meteor destruction, Paul. Especially not with the state we found Emma in.” 

At Emma’s name his eyebrows shot up into his hairline and he clenched a fist. “Emma?” Paul mumbled. 

“She’s stable, her leg has been thoroughly cleaned and the wound re-cauterized to destroy any remaining infected flesh that the frequency generator didn’t affect. She’ll need major physical therapy to get that leg back in top shape, but if her test results come back clear in ten hours then it’ll be a blessing for all of us, son,” McNamara explained. 

Paul sank into his hospital bed a little, some of the tension leaving his body at the General’s reassuring words. 

“We had to restrain you as your initial bloodwork came back inconclusive, even as your blood was red, not purple like Miss Perkins’ blood was. Your outburst when Nurse Evans tried to take another sample was concerning for all of us. We couldn’t tell if you were trying to sing or just worried about Emma, and I wanted to apologize for the sedation and subsequent isolation we’ve put you in,” McNamara said gruffly, offering what he thought was an apologetic smile but turned out to be little more than an upturned grimace. “If you feel comfortable, I can remove the mask and we can talk like normal people, alright son? Nod your head once if you’re ready to talk.” 

Paul nodded his head once and lay still on the bed. General McNamara quickly unlatched the mask and lifted it from Paul’s mouth, setting it on the table behind him. 

Taking a deep breath in, Paul stretched his face muscles as he exhaled slowly through his mouth. He licked his lips, suddenly feeling how dry his mouth was. 

“Thanks, General McNamara,” he grunted out, voice raw and raspy. 

“Don’t mention it, Paul,” the man replied, picking up a cup he must have brought with him and guiding the straw to Paul’s mouth to drink. 

The cool water felt so refreshing on his dry throat Paul hadn’t even realized was so dry until the gag was gone. He coughed a few times after swallowing the water, just happy to be able to talk and breathe more normally again. His throat was already feeling better and his anxiety about being so isolated was subsiding the longer McNamara stayed in the room with him. 

“Thank you for taking my warning about Emma after the helicopter ride seriously, sir,” Paul said suddenly. “I’m sure it sounded insane in the moment but thank you for trusting me on it.” 

General McNamara gave him that weird smile-grimace again and replied, “You and Emma were our top priority after blowing up that god damn meteor, Paul. You completed the assigned task and also had more intelligence than we did on the situation inside, so it was merely logical to follow your word as we exited Hatchetfield.” 

Paul nodded. “What happened to all of those people in the theater?” 

“PEIP came in with buses across the Nantucket Bridge and shipped them all over to the Clivesdale hospital for evaluation and quarantine processing.” 

“Ah, okay. And, the theater?” 

“Completely demolished. Your grenade destroyed the last of the meteor, severing all remaining ties to the alien infection. All that’s left to do is finish the decontamination process of the entire island and the affected parts of Clivesdale and we can put all of this behind us. Especially you and all of your friends, Paul. You’ll likely have to leave Hatchetfield, and I’m not sure how easily we’ll be able to put all of you in close proximity to one another.”  

Paul’s eyebrows came together in a frown as he stared out the window. “Are you going to make us check in every six months like we’re on probation or something? Make sure we’re not spilling PEIP secrets?” 

Confusion flitted across General McNamara’s face for a second before he arranged his features to neutral sympathy. “We’d like to make sure you’re settling in to your new identities and homes well enough, but nothing crazy. Just a quick visit with either myself or Colonel Shaffer and one of our specialists in witness relocation to confirm everything is going well a few months into your resettlement.” 

“Okay. Thanks for sharing that information even though you didn’t have to,” Paul said. 

General McNamara cleared his throat, causing Paul to look at him. “An event like this doesn’t leave the soul, Mr. Matthews. It sticks, resilient to even the harshest of chemicals, and it’s important not to lose sight of what’s important to you. That is PEIP’s goal when it comes to resettling any survivors or witnesses of catastrophes like this situation in Hatchetfield. Let’s get you healed up and back to the main room with Emma now, yeah?” 

Paul nodded vigorously and smiled truer than he had since the bunker at Professor Hidgens’s house. McNamara clapped him on the shoulder and walked out, leaving Paul to be moved by two PEIP soldiers back to the shared quarantine room with Emma. 

Soon they’d be done with this whole nightmare, and maybe, just maybe, he’d have the guts to actually ask Emma out for real. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well this took me longer than expected (oops, blame the 4th of July holiday if you like) but hey it's here and it's a longer chapter to boot! Chapter 11 should be out in a week or so as well, and then we're ALMOST DONE, you guys! As always, let me know your theories, thoughts, and anything random in a comment down below! :) 
> 
> ~Madi


	11. Cup of Roasted Coffee

The relief Paul felt at being wheeled back into the same room at Emma was an embarrassingly large amount, but he didn’t really care at this point. Going through literal hell twice with a person gives you a whole new perspective on life and what actually mattered in the world, and for Paul? Well, she mattered. 

When he was all hooked back up to the monitors and his restraints checked, he asked the attending nurse about the wrappings around his middle. 

“You broke two ribs, bruised another three, and had some fairly deep lacerations from the stage shrapnel on your back and torso, so it’s there to keep everything in place and start the healing process,” she listed off rapidly, not even looking up from her clipboard as she took down his vitals. 

“Oh, wow, okay. I must be pretty drugged up then since I can hardly feel any pain, right?” Paul joked. 

Her face froze for a split second until she registered that he was joking and she chuckled. “Yeah, you’re on a really nice dosage of morphine and acetaminophen right now Mr. Matthews. Why don’t you get some rest? It’s been quite the day for you, and Miss Perkins likely won’t wake up for another day or two.” 

“Okay, sure, thanks Nurse, uh...”

“Tracey.” 

“Thanks, Nurse Tracey.” 

“You’re welcome, Mr. Matthews. We’ll wake you if we see any signs of consciousness from Ms. Perkins. Sleep well.”

~*~*~*~*~Two days later~*~*~*~*~

Emma opened her eyes to see a very blurry Paul staring at her hopefully from the chair next to her bed while a distant Colonel Shaffer and General McNamara looked on. She tried to speak but found she couldn’t with the tube going down her throat. Trying to adjust her position on the bed, she found she was restrained similarly to how Paul had been, although hers was definitely more for the distinct possibility of her getting up to sing and dance them all into alien oblivion rather than devastating injuries. 

Paul turned to look back at Shaffer and McNamara, as if to ask their permission for something. They nodded affirmatively, and the nurse that Emma hadn’t seen stepped up to the bed on the side opposite Paul. With clean and efficient precision, she pulled the tube out and wiped Emma’s face with a soft towel before leaving the room with the contaminated materials in gloved hand. 

“Hey, Emma,” Paul said, smiling softly. 

“Hey, Paul,” Emma replied, voice scratchy and quiet. “Where are we?” 

“PEIP Headquarters slash hospital on the mainland further inland from Clivesdale. We got airlifted out of Hatchetfield after I destroyed the meteor and we were both, uh, seriously injured in the blast,” he answered. 

She looked beyond him for confirmation from Shaffer and McNamara, both of whom nodded, arms still crossed over their chests. Feeling an itch coming on her cheek, Emma made to reach up, but found she was restrained to her bed with small padded cuffs. 

Her heart rate monitor started beeping faster. “What the fuck is going on, Paul?” 

He gave her a pained expression, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water while he searched for the right words to say. 

“You kind of sort of somehow got infected and revealed it to me very dramatically in the Starlight then I knocked you out so all this is a precaution also your leg is really fucked up now and I’m sorry about shocking you with my baton but yeah we don’t know if you’re going to start singing on us again or not so that’s why you’re restrained,” Paul said very quickly, all in one breath. 

Emma just stared at him, having caught every word perfectly thanks to her skills of hearing customers order at Beanies over the din of the machines and other customers in the store. “What do you fucking mean I got infected?” 

Paul shrugged helplessly at her, wincing in pain as the motion aggravated his bruised ribs. Colonel Shaffer stepped forward authoritatively to the foot of Emma’s hospital bed. 

“The most likely cause of your latent infection was the wound on your leg from falling onto the rebar after the helicopter crash in Hatchetfield. Because of the antibiotics you’d been pumped full of while under our care at the hospital, it seems likely they were fighting off the alien infection for a day or so until they couldn’t any longer. The infection likely spread throughout the rest of your body over the course of the day, not taking full root until we executed the plan to blow up the meteor again,” she explained. 

“Mr. Matthews was smart enough to realize you’d turned on him and knocked you out with his shock baton before you could jeopardize the mission. He warned us of your infected state before we got everyone inside HQ and were able to prevent further contamination due to his quick thinking,” she finished. 

Paul blushed at the praise and Emma’s brows furrowed as she processed all of this new information. 

“Okay so how do you know for certain that I won’t break out into song and dance? Or drool blue goo?” Emma inquired. 

“That’s what the cuffs are for, Em. I have them on my bed too, but they let me move over here for your wakeup time for a bit,” Paul said. 

She frowned, still unhappy about the situation. The blankets smoothed everything out, but the numbness of her entire left leg confused her even as she saw it was elevated on a pillow underneath the blankets. Pointing at her leg as best she could, she was blunt with her words. 

“What the fuck is up with this?” 

The nurse stepped forward again, having quietly reentered the room, and put her hands together in front of her. 

“We had to stabilize you as you came in from Hatchetfield with an indeterminate infection status. The wound on your leg was determined as the point of entry for the spores, and we operated immediately to remove any offending muscle tissue. We used the high frequency generator as well after we finished the surgery to optimize full recovery from the infection,” she said. 

“Okay, so what does that mean for my leg?”

“Your leg will be extremely weak for a few months, and you’ll need consistent physical therapy as well to build up strength. You also suffered a laceration to the chest and bruised ribs during the explosion. In other words, you’re both very lucky and also have a long road to recovery.” 

Emma laid back into her pillows and huffed, blinking fast as she tried not to let tears escape. 

“Paul?” Colonel Shaffer intoned quietly. He turned to look at the woman. 

“We don’t think she’s going to try to sing anytime soon, so we’ll give you two a moment alone. Just give a thumbs up to the window when you’re ready for us to come back in so we can do some assessments, alright?” 

He nodded and turned back to Emma, gently grasping her right hand with his own, waiting until the door closed behind the nurse, Colonel Shaffer, and General McNamara to speak. 

“How are you doing, Em?” Paul asked. 

She rolled her eyes at him and exhaled loudly. “How do you think I’m fucking doing, Paul?” 

Paul held up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry, that was a stupid thing to ask you.” 

“It’s okay, I know you’re just worried about me.” 

“What do you remember from the Starlight?” 

“I remember us going in together. I remember seeing all the infected in the balcony staring at us as we got into the theater. Me banging on the seats with my baton, and the college student singing at us. After that, nothing,” she replied. 

“Okay. Okay,” Paul said, squeezing his fists as anxiety built up in his body. 

“What happened next, Paul? I need to know,” Emma said, looking at him plaintively. 

He sighed and put his head in his hands for a minute before looking up at her. 

“You, uh, said that they didn’t have to infect you, and then took off your gas mask,” he swallowed thickly before continuing. “You tried to pull off my mask and then I, uh, shocked you with my baton. You went unconscious from the electricity and then I blew up the meteor.” 

Emma nodded her head as he went through her missing memories. “Well shit.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Maybe that’s why my leg was hurting so much the day before we left Clivesdale.” 

Paul’s eyebrows rose and his nose crinkled in confusion. 

“Think about it, Paul! We were fighting all those fucking infected PEIP soldiers and I had my knife so I was slashing at them, and I had a lot of their gross blue blood all over me by the time we were out of there. It only makes sense that it soaked through my bandages and into my wound, right? That’s how I got infected but didn’t start seeing the effects until later compared to everyone else!” Emma exclaimed. 

“Okay, that’s great that you think you know how you got infected in the first place. But you did, and so did I, and we were directly impacted by that grenade blast. You’re still hurt really badly, Emma, even if you can’t feel any pain right now. It’s going to take more than a good attitude for either of us to get out of here anytime soon, you know that, right? You did a lot, especially with that helicopter crash. I honestly don’t know how you tried to ask me out, rather than just immediately pass out from the pain,” Paul said. 

She waved her hand dismissively at him. “Psh, that is called pick-up game, sweetie and obviously I fucking nailed it. And stop trying to downplay all the shit you did for me in Clivesdale, okay? You fucking GOT OUT  _ AND _ you took a hostage with you at the same time. I think that’s pretty fucking legendary, Paul.”

Her face softened as his telltale blush colored his cheeks red and he avoided her gaze. 

“Hey, look at me, Paul,” she said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly in her own. He raised his eyes to meet hers, returning the squeeze. “I really would like to go on an actual, legit date with you. Maybe not to a coffee shop or cafe though, I think I would hyperventilate if I step foot in one of those anytime soon.” 

Paul chuckled, but Emma shook their hands to stop him. 

“I’m trying to be serious here, now shut up,” she warned. “If PEIP is going to make all this disappear like I heard the nurses saying earlier while I was half-conscious, then fuck, man. I can’t let you disappear on me, not after all the shit we’ve been through. I just can’t do it.” 

A tear slipped down her cheek, and Paul gently wiped it away, letting his hand cup her face for a brief second before letting it fall to rest on her shoulder. 

“I know, Emma. We’ve been through hell and back together, that’s for sure,” he said. 

She choked out a laugh and sniffled. “Damn why the hell am I crying, this is so unlike me, fuck. It’s definitely the drugs they’ve got me on, I swear I’m not this emotional of a person. ” 

“It’s okay,” Paul said tenderly, giving her a small smile. “It’s been a hell of a week for both of us.” 

“Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth!” 

“Yeah, well, it’s the most interesting week of my life so far too, that’s for certain. You know, I never got the chance to thank you for taking a chance on me way back at Beanies with your coworkers trying to infect you with the poisoned coffee. You just trusted me, and I, uh, guess I wanted to thank you for doing that, or whatever,” he trailed off. 

“Well when your coworkers try to kill you and infect you with glowing blue shit, you kind of have to turn to the only non-insane person in the room,” she replied. “You were always a good customer too, never yelling at me or Zoey for your order and tipping really well even if that was your shy way of trying to flirt with me. Don’t interrupt! I knew you’d get us out of there alive, and you did. So really I should be thanking you, Paul.” 

They smiled stupidly at each other for a few seconds, just enjoying each other’s company and the sweet silence of the hospital room. 

“Alright, are you ready for these assessments, Em?” 

“No, but I guess I have to be. You’re not leaving, are you?” 

Paul shook his head and  winced as he pulled his arm away from her and sat back in the chair. Concern washed over Emma’s face. 

“Shit, how are you feeling, I didn’t even ask you!” 

He flapped his hand at her. “It’s fine, just a broken rib or two. Believe me, you’re better off not knowing because I don’t think they even told me everything that’s wrong with me.” 

“Paul, what the fuck, why aren’t you in your bed then, you stupidhead!”

“Because I wanted to be right here when you woke up,” he shrugged, blushing. “Now, can I give McNamara the signal?”

Emma sighed. “Fine, let’s get this over with.” 

Paul turned to the big viewing window and gave the thumbs up, bracing for the move back into his own bed. 

General McNamara walked into the room with Colonel Shaffer and four nurses in their full containment suits. Two of the nurses helped Paul back into his hospital bed and moved him to be in more of Emma’s line of sight, adjusting his IV bags at the same time. Shaffer and McNamara both had clipboards and pens in hand, likely to write down observations. The nurses finished preparing all of their materials on a cart they’d wheeled in with them. Then with a brief explanation and affirmation of willingness to the tests from Emma, they began the assessment. 

Their voices began to overlap as the morphine IV Paul was now hooked up to slowly worked its way into his system. His vision began swimming and the last thing he saw before passing out was Emma’s frightened face as one of the nurses wielded a speaker playing music at her. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Professor Hidgens paced outside Paul and Emma’s hospital room, anxious after the nurses wheeled a cart with all manner of things on it and closed the curtain to the viewing window. Bill, Ted, and Alice had all ventured up from the cafeteria at this point, having gotten the chance to visit with Paul for a few minutes earlier after they’d been deemed safe to enter the room. Ted looked up at Higdens, concerned at the man’s apparent lack of appetite all day. 

“Hey, Hidgens, have you eaten anything yet today?” Ted asked, standing up and blocking the Professor from continuing to pace. 

“Hmm, what?” Hidgens said. “Oh, uh, I believe I had a blueberry muffin this morning.” 

Ted shook his head. “That was yesterday, Hidgens. You and me are going to the cafeteria right now to get some food, alright? Don’t protest, Emma and Paul will still be there when we get back. Bill, text me if anything happens.” 

Bill gave him a one-finger salute before returning to his conversation with Alice and Melissa. 

The two men walked down to the cafeteria in amenable silence, Ted throwing furtive glances at Hidgens, trying to assess the man’s health with just his eyes, even though they were literally surrounded by doctors and nurses. Ted grabbed two sandwiches, a couple of fruit cups, two Gatorades, and a bag of chips as Hidgens followed mutely behind him. He paid at the register and handed one of the sandwiches and fruit cups to Hidgens, who looked upset at the food in his hand as they found a free table to sit down at.  

Unwrapping the paper and taking a big bite of his sandwich, Ted noticed Hidgens hadn’t even opened the Gatorade bottle.  _ How was this man still alive if he barely remembered to feed himself? _ Teed tapped his foot a few times as he swallowed, trying to determine the best way to get the professor to eat. 

He sighed and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Look, Hidgens. If you don’t eat at least that fruit cup, I’m going to talk to one of the nurses upstairs and have them check you in for help, alright? I remember Emma saying something about her being your favorite student because she bought you groceries once, and that now makes a lot more sense based on how you’re acting right now.” 

Hidgens flinched at the bluntness of Ted’s words, but opened the fruit cup and speared the cantaloupe with his fork. He swallowed heavily and lifted the fruit to his mouth, chewing quickly and forcing it down his throat. The juiciness was nice, and coated his mouth pleasantly. His fruit cup was finished in two minutes, and Ted slid over his own fruit cup. 

“Thank you, Hidgens. I think Emma would be proud of you right now,” Ted said quietly. 

“Oh, well, I don’t think I’d go so far as to say that about Emma,” Hidgens stated. “She’d probably just ask if she could buy me groceries again because she knows I’m forgetful about things like that.” 

Ted smiled, and replied, “Well you do know her better than I do.”    
  
Hidgens chuckled and ate more of Ted’s fruit cup, already looking better than he had ten minutes ago. A few minutes passed by in silence as the two men ate, Ted finishing his sandwich with a grossly large bite. Hidgens was just starting to unwrap his own sandwich after stealing a few of Ted’s chips when Ted felt his pants pocket vibrate. 

 He slid his phone out, seeing a new message from Bill pop up on the screen. 

_ Bill: They’re done testing Emma. And McNamara wants to meet with all of us in the room in five minutes.  _

_ Ted: We’ll be back in two. _

Ted locked his phone screen and put it back in his pocket. “Alright, looks like they finished up faster than I thought they would, and McNamara wants to meet with all of us now. Bring that sandwich along though, I might want it later.” 

They gathered their trash and put it in the receptacle and went upstairs with speed and worried minds, neither of them with any idea of what McNamara needed to talk to the whole group about so soon after finishing Emma’s assessment. Surely it wasn’t going to be good, and Ted felt sweat already starting to bead up on his forehead as he followed Hidgens to Paul and Emma’s room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oop where here's chapter 11! I honestly don't really remember writing most of this (thanks NyQuil!) so please tell me if it actually makes any sense! Also, welcome back to Paul and Emma time in this chapter, wowee.
> 
> We're approaching the end, people! Only three more chapters and honestly I'm very excited for the next one! 
> 
> ~Madi


	12. What Do You Want, Paul?

Once everyone was in the room with Paul and Emma, General McNamara cleared his throat to get their attention. 

“Apologies for the lateness in calling this meeting, everyone. Now that we’ve finished our assessments on everyone that survived the Hatchetfield meteor alien invasion, PEIP has given me clearance to speak with you all about next steps, how you’re all going to move forward, and relocation for many of you,” he held up a hand as several voices started protesting. “The island of Hatchetfield has now been cleared for temporary reentry by PEIP, but it will not be cleared for permanent residential return for a minimum of one month to ensure all traces of the alien infection are gone and properly disposed of. Because of this, semi-permanent or permanent relocation is how PEIP is going to move forward with the survivors of this catastrophe such as yourselves.”

“Now I can’t guarantee everything will shake out perfectly, but I want to emphasize how much Colonel Shaffer and I are working to place most of you in the same area. We understand exactly how tough it is to go through an event like this and not be able to talk to anyone about it; we’re hoping that by being near to each other, if desired, you can rely on each other.” 

“That’s great and all, but this still doesn’t help us now. What’s going to happen to all of us in the next few days? What about Paul and Emma?” Ted asked. 

“Due to the extent of their injuries and the required physical therapy for both of them, they will be staying here for another two to three weeks,” Colonel Shaffer spoke up. “The rest of you will be released tomorrow to a local hotel until your new lives and identities are arranged.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, new identities? I didn’t sign up for this!” Bill exclaimed. 

General McNamara sighed and rested a hand on his utility belt. “Yes, unfortunately PEIP protocol for this type of catastrophe requires full identity remakes, much like the federal Witness Protection program. We will begin meeting with all of you in two hours time to go over some of those details to start the process.” 

“What about all of our stuff back in Hatchetfield? Our lives, man?” Ted interjected. 

“Yeah!” Melissa said. 

“All of your possessions will be assessed by PEIP and any outstanding loans or rent payments on homes and apartments will be handled through our accounting division. We can’t let you return to what your lives used to be in Hatchetfield as doing so would likely cause a majority of you a significant amount of stress and pain, and we would like to minimize that as much as possible for your sakes. It’s partly due to PEIP protocol, and partly due to our psychologists’ recommendations,” McNamara said. 

“What about my ex-wife who lives in Clivesdale? Is there no way she can be relocated too as Alice technically lives with her most of the time? I still want to be able to see my daughter,” Bill said. 

Colonel Shaffer turned to Bill. “We can discuss it further in your personal meeting, and if it turns out she was one of the infected in Clivesdale, I’m sure arrangements can be made easily.” 

Bill nodded, and Alice smiled gratefully at Colonel Shaffer from her father’s side.

“Colorado. That’s where Emma wanted to go. Is that where we’re going then?” Paul said suddenly, having been listening quietly for the duration of the conversation. 

McNamara turned to face him. “Potentially. Although due to the fact that the infection spread to the Clivesdale hospital while Miss Perkins was recovering and your infection was happening, it’s doubtful the two of you will be going to the same original destination due to the extra-terrestrial nature of the catastrophe and the potential information the Hive was able to gain control over in Clivesdale. The relocation process will take a bit longer than we had originally anticipated as there are simply a lot more of you than we had at the beginning of this ordeal.” 

Paul nodded and fell silent, thinking. Emma had fallen back asleep from the pain medication not thirty seconds into the meeting, so he was going to do his best to recap it for her later. Everyone else was grumbling to themselves, but General McNamara and Colonel Shaffer waited patiently. 

“What about what we want, though?” Mr. Davidson chimed in. “Don’t we get any say in where we go, regardless of whether or not we go with anyone else here?” 

“The individual meetings we will be holding with all of you later will be the place for you to tell us what you want to do. So yes, but PEIP has the final say in where everyone goes for national security purposes,” Colonel Shaffer answered. 

Everyone grumbled again to themselves, but as no one spoke up with more questions, General McNamara clapped his hands together and said, “Well, if there are no more questions, we’ll come for you all tomorrow morning when the hotel is ready for you. You’re all dismissed until seven a.m. when I ask that you all gather yourselves in the lounge down the hall.” 

He waited as everyone left, including Colonel Shaffer, before turning back to face Paul. “Is there something you’d like to discuss with me, Paul? I know this isn’t the optimal situation for you, but it’s just the truth of both of your injuries.” 

Paul sighed, wincing as he took too deep of a breath. “No, I know you and Colonel Shaffer are doing the best you can, given the situation. Hell, even when I was fake Ben Bridges to go to Colorado with Emma, I was scared to go so far from Hatchetfield. But now that we’re both pretty fucked up, I think I’m less scared to move away now. I know what I want now, and even though it’s been a pretty shitty fucking week, I’m good with that.” 

General McNamara gave Paul a knowing smile, even as Paul was looking at Emma’s sleeping face. “Understood, Paul. I’ll do what I can for both of you to transition most easily out of HQ. Do you have any ideas as to what kind of job you’d like to have once you’re ready for relocation? Anything similar to CCRP Technical?” 

“Oh god no, I hated it. I did get an accounting degree in college, you know. Maybe something like that?” Paul suggested. “As long as I can do something that’s also close to Emma’s college so she can finish her botany degree.” 

“Thank you, Paul. I’ll make a note of that and make sure it’s emphasized to my superiors,” McNamara nodded and gave him a salute before leaving the room, closing the curtain as it was late in the evening and they deserved their privacy. 

Paul looked back at Emma, a soft smile forming on its own. They’d do just fine, eventually. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As it turned out, PEIP had managed to work it so that everyone was relocated to the suburban areas just outside of Boulder in Colorado, so they were all within an hour’s drive of each other. They all felt more relieved than they thought they would upon learning this information, but nonetheless it lifted some of their stress from their shoulders. 

They were taken back by car in groups of twos and threes to Hatchetfield and get any possessions they really wanted to take with them to their new lives, with copious amounts of tissues in each vehicle ready for use as it sank in they were really leaving Hatchetfield behind. 

Bill’s ex-wife had in fact been infected in Clivesdale, so she readily agreed to move with them, even wholeheartedly agreeing to try living with Bill and Alice to make things work, for Alice’s sake. 

Ted went with Hidgens to the bunker, knowing that the Professor wouldn’t hardly know what he should take, and that he shouldn’t be alone during a task like this. The only items Ted had grabbed from his apartment were a few framed photos and the mug Charlotte had given him as a Christmas present the year prior. 

Hidgens entered the house like he was seeing ghosts, and maybe he was. The chaos of that night in the bunker was a lot to re-experience, even as all traces of the bodies and blue goo had been wiped clean. Ted’s hand on his shoulder startled him, but he was comforted to know Ted was there with him, nearly forgetting the PEIP soldier there to assess any belongings he wanted to take with him. The only thing he could even think to take was his microscope from the lab and a picture hanging on the fridge of him and Emma in his research lab at the community college. The PEIP soldier was initially resistant to the microscope, but at motions from Ted, allowed it. 

When the left the bunker and were standing outside the gates, Hidgens turned back and stared at the house, tears pricking as he looked on what had been his home for the last three decades for a final time. Ted put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a firm squeeze to show his support. With a shaky nod, Hidgens turned away and walked pointedly away from the gate, the microscope gripped tightly in his arms. Ted followed behind with the PEIP agent, giving Hidgens the space he needed. 

~*~*~*~*~

Alice and Bill took some time longer than the PEIP soldier wanted, but when Alice walked into her bedroom and saw the picture of her and Deb from the rivalry football game hanging on her wall, she broke into sobs. It took Bill nearly thirty minutes to calm her down, and even then she was still hiccuping as she tried to pick out what she wanted to take with her. Eventually she unstuck the picture of her and Deb from the wall and clutched it to her chest as she looked deeper into her possessions. 

Bill knocked lightly on her door a few minutes later, a photo album and a few other things piled in a box under his arm. “You got everything you want, honey?” 

Sniffling, Alice nodded and gripped the box of memories and possessions tightly in her arms. Bill gave her a one-armed hug as they left her room and walked downstairs to the waiting PEIP soldier. The man rose from the table and gestured them out the front door, waiting in the car while they looked back on their house one last time. 

~*~*~*~*~

What with so many civilian survivors to take care of, PEIP simply booked a whole floor of the nearby hotel for everyone to stay in so they wouldn’t be interrupted by other guests with no knowledge of the Hatchetfield catastrophic alien invasion. Everyone was more relieved than they let on at learning they would all still be together in the hotel, but General McNamara and Colonel Shaffer had suspected they would appreciate it, hence their pushing for the setup. They made sure to send over a tablet so they could video chat with Paul and Emma while they were still recovering in the hospital. 

The first pair to move out of the hotel was Nora and Zoey, after about two weeks. They were going to a suburb around Boulder, Colorado where they’d all have entry level jobs waiting for them in an upscale bookstore and café. Their goodbyes were tearful, and Emma was visibly upset at seeing her former coworkers leaving, but she was assured they’d be texting her every day to keep her posted about Colorado and how they liked it. 

Emma was finally cleared of the infection the day after they left, so Paul had Hidgens sneak in a slice of chocolate cake for her to eat in celebration. Ted even seemed happy about the news, and helped hide the cake from view when a nurse walked by the window. Paul had been doing physical therapy for a few days and was already able to get up and walk for a few minutes without pain. Once Ted and Hidgens had left, he snuck out of his bed to give her a sweet, short kiss. 

“What was that for, Paul?” Emma asked. 

 He shrugged sheepishly. “You’re clear now, and that makes me really happy. And it means you get to start physical therapy on Saturday!”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance. 

“Hey it means we both get to leave instead of just me leaving you here alone and bored for a few hours every day,” he replied. 

“Okay, fair point. I am ready to get out of this fucking bed,” she said. 

Paul smiled widely at her and got back into his bed before a nurse could come by and scold him. “That’s the spirit, Em. We’ll be out and with everyone in Colorado soon enough.” 

Emma smiled back and dreamt of happy things and chocolate cake that night. 

Next to leave was Mr. Davidson, his wife Carol, Laura, and Melissa, who left a few days later. The two ladies got an apartment in downtown Boulder, while Mr. Davidson and Carol had a small, two bedroom house just outside the city, as he’d asked for. Their party leaving was less tearful than the first one, primarily because it was many of the remaining group members’ boss leaving, so they didn’t particularly know the correct level of emotions to have for him leaving. Paul didn’t really know what Carol even did for a living, but he was told later that Mr. Davidson went into a management position at a financial analytics firm, so he was satisfied with that information. 

Melissa made sure Emma stayed posted on their move and new jobs, with tens if not hundreds of texts flying between the two of them every day. When Emma’s hands got tired, she sometimes asked Paul to text for her; he always obliged, even if he was tired himself. 

Another week in the hotel passed, and then Bill, Alice, and his ex-wife left. Emma was up and walking (slowly) with the assistance of a walker--and Paul--up and down the hospital hallway now, and her blood results the last five days had come back perfectly clean, so her and Paul had gotten moved out of the quarantine room and into a regular double room on the floor. 

This exit party was much more somber than the previous two had been. Paul and Bill both wiped tears away after they embraced, and even Ted didn’t have the driest eyes in the room. Alice gave Emma a tentative hug and whispered something quietly into her ear, earning a laugh and a tight hug back from Emma. Paul raised an eyebrow at Alice as he held his arms open for her, but she just gave him a wink and wrapped her arms around his middle. He kissed the top of her head lovingly and released her, more tears welling. Emma welcomed Paul’s need to cuddle that evening before lights out, and relished in the fact that they’d soon be leaving too. 

Last to go before Paul and Emma were cleared to leave were Ted and Professor Hidgens, four days after Bill’s family. Ted must have said something in his individual meeting with General McNamara and Colonel Shaffer, because they’d placed him and Hidgens together in a three bedroom condominium on the edge of the city. There was even an extra bedroom for Hidgens to use as lab space. Hidgens and Emma had a long, quiet talk while Ted and Paul chatted about how everyone else was doing so far in Colorado and the nurses Ted had tried flirting with far too many times to be serious anymore. Paul respectfully turned his head when he saw Emma crying, focusing on what Ted was saying about the movie he wanted to take Hidgens to go see once they were all moved out to Boulder. Finally Emma and Hidgens hugged briefly and then turned to Paul and Ted. 

“Ready to go, Hidgens?” Ted queried. 

“I suppose I have to be, eh?” Hidgens answered. 

Ted chuckled and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Yep, let’s get this flight over with, all right?” 

“Goodbye, Professor Hidgens. I can’t thank you enough for everything you did for us those last couple days of the Apotheosis,” Paul effused, shaking his hand firmly. 

Hidgens waved him away. “Nonsense, I would do it all over again if I had to. Besides, don’t think you’ll be seeing the last of me. If Emma has it her way, I’ll be over for dinner at least once a week at least when you two get out of here and settled in Colorado.” 

“Well I look forward to that, then. Ted, go find another latte hottie, man,” Paul laughed. 

“You know I will, Paul,” Ted gave him a wink and two finger salute before following Hidgens out of the room. 

Paul let out a big sigh, his shoulders visibly sinking. 

“What’s up, Paul?” Emma asked, moving to rest on the edge of her hospital bed. 

“I don’t know, Em. I guess it’s just really hitting me now that the Apotheosis is really over, and we’re safe,” Paul shrugged, sitting down lightly next to her. 

Emma leaned into his side, and he automatically lifted his arm to let her tuck under it. 

“Well, pretty soon we’ll be on our way to Colorado too, what do you think about that?” 

“I don’t know, I guess I hadn’t really thought about it yet, all things considered. What do you think about it?”

“I’m really excited, Paul. I’ve wanted to move to Colorado for the last three years and now it’s finally happening, I can’t believe it. And I also get to do it with you? Even better! Maybe we don’t have to start the pot farm right away though, I do still need to finish my degree, and you need to get a job, I guess. Or you can just be my trophy boyfriend and cook and clean for me all day while I’m in class.” 

Paul blushed crimson and squeezed Emma’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, I think we’ll be all right. And hey, maybe I’ll figure out what I want to do, finally.” 

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes longer. A nurse came into change Emma’s bandages before lights out, and Paul returned to his own bed, sharing a smile with Emma over the nurse’s back. 

Yeah, they’d be all right. And Paul had finally found what he wanted, smiling right back at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the delay on this chapter, y'all! I had to figure out some plot points first and then make sure this moved along like I wanted to. Let me know what you think in a comment down below or if you have suggestions for things you'd like me to write! 
> 
> ~Madi :)


	13. La Dee Dah Dah Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, there's been absolutely zero editing so if you see any mistakes that's just how it's gonna be.

Two weeks after Ted and Professor Hidgens had officially left, General McNamara and Colonel Shaffer had an early morning meeting with Paul and Emma. They’d finally determined that with the progress both of them had been making in physical therapy that they would be allowed to leave in approximately a week, barring any last-minute deterrents from their physical therapists and the surgeon who’d overseen both of their major surgeries. If she was allowed to, Emma would have leapt out of her bed and hugged the General and Colonel, she was so happy. They left with their black uniforms and clipboards and heavy boots, but Emma could only focus on Paul’s shining face.

Getting the date of their departure from the PEIP HQ hospital to make the move to Colorado was the highlight of Emma’s day, and it was barely past breakfast. He got out of his chair and rushed to kiss her, their noses smashing as he misjudged the angle, but he didn’t care. They were going to be getting out, and they’d be getting out, together.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Emma worked even harder than she had been before during her physical therapy sessions, determined to be walking without more than assistance from a cane before she left. Her physical therapist was impressed with the strides she’d made over the last two weeks, moving from the walker to the arm braces in that time. She made no assumptions, but knew it was because her patient’s goal was within her grasp, and she wanted to help Emma get there.

On her last day working with Emma, she waited until Emma’s back was turned and walking with the track the other way to grab her gift. When Emma turned around slowly to come back the other way, tears started bubbling up and a small smile appeared on her face.

“Is that for me?” Emma asked, limping her way back down the track to where the physical therapist was standing.

“No, it’s for me,” she joked. “Of course it’s for you. You’ve done so well this month in physical therapy, and I wanted to make sure you only had the best support while you’re still recovering your full strength.”

She sniffled before replying. “You didn’t have to do that for me, I’m sure you have lots of more deserving patients than me.”

The physical therapist shoved the cane into Emma’s hand. “Emma. You deserve something good from this whole Apotheosis shit you went through, and this is one small part of that goodness. Please just take it or I’ll make you do three more rounds of reps!”

Emma gripped the cane tightly and said, “Okay, okay! I’ll take it, please don’t make me do any more reps, Sarah, I already did a couple of laps around my room earlier when I shouldn’t have so my leg is on fire right now.”

Rolling her eyes, Sarah put a hand on her hip. “Okay, one more back and forth across the room with your new cane, and then you’re done with physical therapy!”

“Yes!” Emma cheered, starting her limp to the far side of the room.

As she made it back to where her physical therapist was standing, she had a big smile on her face, partially because Paul had entered the room for his session and was watching her with pride on his face.

“Look at this, Paul! I’ll be able to outrun you in no time,” Emma bantered.

He chuckled. “Sure you will, Em. I like the cane! Very stylish.”

“Thanks, Sarah gave it to me!”

“Yes, and you’re going to use it every day and I’ll be in contact with your physical therapist in Colorado for a while to make sure you’re keeping up with all of your exercises,” Sarah warned.

Emma’s ears turned red. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I won’t push it, blah blah. Thank you so much, Sarah.”

“Of course, Emma. You’ve been great to work with,” Sarah smiled.

“Wow, Sarah, you didn’t have to do that,” Paul said.

Sarah shrugged. “What can I say? You two have been through the most shit of anyone I’ve treated here at PEIP so what’s a small gift of a walking cane?”

“I know Emma won’t really show it but she appreciates it a lot, and so do I,” Paul said.

“Thanks, Paul. All right, Emma, you’re all finished and it’s time for you to get out so I can work with Paul,” Sarah declared.

“Okay fine, have a good session, Paul. I’ll see you back upstairs,” Emma leaned in to get a kiss on the cheek from him before taking her cane and limping out of the room.

Paul followed her with his eyes until she was out of sight of the window before focusing on Sarah. “Okay, let’s get this done.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The morning of their departure for Colorado, Emma was buzzing with energy. She woke Paul up at six a.m. by poking him repeatedly on the face. He swatted her hand away before blinking his eyes open slowly to see her face looming over his.

“Jesus, Emma. What time is it?”

“Not saying because you’ll hate me but guess what day it is!”

“It’s moving day.”

“It’s moving day!”

“Is it before or after seven a.m.?”

Silence from Emma gave him his answer. He rolled over onto his side, away from her.

“Go back to sleep, Em. I promise nothing will change in an hour.”

“But Paul,” she whined, dragging out his name, “I’ve been awake since like four thirty so that’s definitely not going to work.”

“Fine, you can get in here with me then as long as you don’t talk or move around a lot,” he relented.

“Yes!” she squealed, climbing under the covers with him and snuggling up against his back, putting one arm around his middle.

He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, finding it just a bit more difficult with Emma lying so close to him. Nevertheless, he did doze for another hour and a half until the clock on his bedside table beeped. Paul groaned and reached to turn it off, grimacing as the stretch pulled on his still healing chest wound bandaging. A quick tap and it stopped beeping, and he settled back into the bed more comfortably, lying on his back. Emma shifted to tuck into his side, her head resting on his outstretched upper arm.

She clearly had only gotten more excited in the time he’d been dozing, as he could feel her body literally vibrating. He nudged her with his knee.

“Are you excited?”

Emma stilled next to him. “Maybe.”

Paul chuckled. “It’s okay, I am too. This will be my first real time outside of Hatchetfield as an adult so I’m also really nervous.”

“That’s okay, you’ll have me to help you through it,” she said cheerfully.

“Yes I will,” he replied, leaning over to kiss her.

Emma kissed him back deeply, snaking a hand up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Before she could get too carried away Paul pulled away, breaking the kiss. She whined but allowed it, opening her eyes to see him looking at her.

“What?” she asked, curling her fingers further into his hair.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he cleared his throat, the tips of his ears turned red. “Uh, I guess I’m still in shock we get to leave in a few hours.”

She grinned. “Fuck yeah we do. Can we get up now, please?”

He sighed heavily. “Okay.”

Paul stayed still while Emma attempted to flee from the bed as quickly as possible--in reality it was a modest slide off and limp over to her own, but he’ll give her that, today of all days. She hit the call button on her bed to signal they were ready for breakfast, and a nurse came in five minutes later with their breakfasts on a cart, a big smile on her face.

“Congratulations on the move, you two. It must be a big step for the pair of you,” she winked at Paul who just blushed red and nearly choked on his spoonful of oatmeal.

“I can’t wait,” Emma said, having nearly finished her oatmeal already, so full of energy as she was.

The nurse chuckled and waited politely until Paul finished his oatmeal and fruit before clearing their dishes and leaving them alone again. Paul grabbed the civilian clothes the overnight nurse had brought in last night and walked to the bathroom to change. Emma was waiting by the door with her own clothes in hand when he finished, shutting the door as soon as he was clear of it. He shook his head and shuffled to the chair by his bed. Sitting down, he pulled on his socks slowly and started the laborious process of having to be bent over so far without pulling his bandages to tie his shoes. As he tugged the left shoe string into place Emma opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

General McNamara and Colonel Shaffer knocked on the door a few minutes later, entering after Emma loudly told them to come in. Colonel Shaffer held two manila envelopes in her hand. For a brief moment Emma froze and was transported back to the Clivesdale Hospital with Colonel Shaffer and the silent nurse. Paul’s hand soft on her shoulder brought her back to the present and to what General McNamara was saying.

“You’ll be driven to the airport by Colonel Shaffer in twenty minutes and then once you land in Denver there will be a PEIP agent waiting for you at the rental car desk. They’ll drive you to your new place and will have the rest of your personal paperwork there. Any questions?”

They both shook their heads no.

“Well, then I guess all I have left to say to the two of you is two things. The first, is thank you. You sacrificed a lot during the Apotheosis and went through some tough shit. As a thank you, I’d like to officially offer both of you paid consultant positions with PEIP--on a contractual basis--in order to continue serving your country as civilians and protecting against alien threats. I don’t need an answer right now; Colonel Shaffer will be out to check on your integration into your new lives in a month’s time, so you can give your answer then,” General McNamara said.

“Secondly, I’d like to say congratulations and good luck on your journey to Colorado. Relocating to a new place with new names is going to be difficult at first, but the two of you are special. Goodbye, Miss Perkins, Mr. Matthews,” he saluted them both before stepping out of the room.

Colonel Shaffer handed them their own manila envelopes, waiting as they pulled out their new drivers licenses and identity documents.

Emma looked up with shining eyes. “We get to keep our real names?”

“Well, just your first names. But yes, we thought it best if all of you got that luxury as you have become so tight-knit of a group, it would allow you to maintain the familiarity and connection to Hatchetfield,” Colonel Shaffer explained.

“Thank you,” Paul said quietly.

“No, thank you Mr. Matthews for pulling the pin on the grenade not once but twice to save us. The two of you have done a great deal for this country that you may not even realize. This was the least we could do,” she said.

He smiled softly in return and put an arm around Emma’s shoulders, squeezing gently.

“Okay so are we going to the airport now or what?” he asked.

Emma’s head shot up and the excitement was back on her face in an instant.

Colonel Shaffer couldn’t resist smiling at her, and nodded her head once.

Squealing, Emma put the tablet and folder into the backpack she’d been given, along with the other odds and ends she’d collected in her time in PEIP headquarters. With assistance from Paul and her cane, she followed Colonel Shaffer out the door to start her new life with Paul in Colorado.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The flight to Denver was the longest three hours of Paul’s life, considering he’d never flown before and his previous experience in an aircraft having ended in a fiery crash. Emma had coached him through takeoff and landing, and when they’d experienced some turbulence on the way down into Denver. He could tell she was nervous until they were up in the air and the flight attendants started the drinks and snack cart, so he squeezed her hand tightly in support. As promised when they landed at the airport, a nondescript PEIP agent was waiting at the car rental desk for them. The drive was longer than Paul thought it would be, nearly an hour and a half due to the traffic they hit going out of the city.

Finally, the car rolled up to a quaint, one-story house at the end of a brand new, mostly empty housing development. The PEIP agent unloaded their luggage for them on the porch while Paul and Emma got out of the car.

Paul helped Emma up the front steps to their little home, smiles plastered on both of their faces. The PEIP agent gave a quick salute to Paul, then walked off to have a seat in the back garden to give them some privacy, for which Paul was grateful.

He unlocked the front door and held it open for Emma, letting her have the first look at their new life. She paused five steps into the foyer, hand over her mouth. Paul closed the door behind him and rested a hand on her shoulder, also taking it in. While it wasn’t decorated yet, it still felt just right, felt like they were meant to live there, together. The foyer opened up directly into the kitchen, with a living room space on the right. Paul gently guided Emma down the hall, checking out the guest bedroom and bathroom. They stopped at the closed door at the end of the hall, knowing that this would change things more than they cared to admit right then.

Paul hesitated, so Emma turned the doorknob to the master bedroom and pushed the door open forcefully. Both of them exhaled happily to see that there was not a note on the bed like they do at hotels in the honeymoon suites. Emma dropped her backpack onto the bed and turned around to face Paul.

“So,” she said, leaning her cane against the bed frame.

“So,” Paul echoed, words failing him.

Emma limped forward to snake her arms around Paul’s neck. He automatically set his hands on her waist to stabilize her.

“We fucking did it, Paul. We made it,” she said, voice cracking slightly.

He smiled brightly at her. “We made it.”

She laughed and rose onto her tiptoes to kiss him, threading her fingers through his hair. Seized by momentary passion, he wrapped his arms around her more tightly and lifted her off her feet. Her mouth parted and the kiss deepened, more fervent than when they’d kissed before. Their kiss continued until Paul’s strength gave out, and he had to set her back down onto the floor. Emma whined as he broke the kiss.

“Why’d you stop?” she frowned.

“Because the PEIP agent is still here and has documents to go over with us,” Paul said.

“Ugh, why do you have to be so fucking logical?”

“Because he is still here and he’s sitting in our garden outside this window and that could get incredibly awkward.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay, fine, let’s get this over with. I’m ready to explore this house.”

Paul smiled and grabbed her cane for her. “Come on, then.”

They walked back outside to the garden, where the PEIP agent had a large folder of documents on the table in front of him. He waited to speak until both of them were seated at the table.

“On behalf of PEIP, I’d like to congratulate the two of you on becoming first-time homeowners to this property. So first things first, there’s some paperwork regarding this home for the pair of you to sign. It’s just the standard deed to the home as you’re not going to have any mortgage payments to make, PEIP made sure of that,” the agent said.

“Are you serious?” Paul asked.

“Yes, sir. You’ll also find there is a paid-off car with a full tank of gas in the garage as well. Car insurance and registration will have to be paid on that, along with your homeowner’s insurance. Those documents are here and the stickers indicate where you need to sign. These documents are made in triplicate for your records and also PEIP’s records. Furthermore, the next set is for bank accounts that you already have the cards for and access to, this is just the formal part to please the banks and federal government. The cell phones you were given before departing HQ are on the phone plan described in this document, and they come with a direct line to HQ and PEIP-affiliated therapists, should you need to talk outside of your regular sessions,” he explained, handing them both pens.

They got busy signing the paperwork he’d just described, Paul eyeing the remaining stack uneasily. “What is the rest of the folder full of?”

“This contains more details about your new identities along with descriptions of your new jobs and class schedule for Emma. You both have a week to settle into your new home before work starts and Emma, you have until the fall semester begins for your schooling to start again. This folder also contains several catalogs for furniture and home decor to finish furnishing your new home. Send PEIP the itemized list of things you would like to purchase, and they will arrive within a week of PEIP’s acknowledgement of your list.”

“Fuck yeah! Uh, sorry,” Emma exclaimed.

“It’s fine,” the PEIP agent reassured her. “If you don’t have any more questions for me on the paperwork or other things, then I will let the two of you settle in. Thank you for your service to the country and enjoy your new home.”

“Uh, okay, well I don’t have any questions, do you have any, Em?” Paul deflected.

“Yeah no, I’m fresh out at the moment. Thank you, Mr. PEIP agent,” Emma said.

“Yes, really, thank you for doing so much for all of us from Hatchetfield, we really appreciate it,” Paul said warmly.

“Your group did a hell of a lot better of a job at saving the world this time around than PEIP ever could have hoped, so this is just the most visible way PEIP can thank you. I’ll pass the sentiment on to General McNamara and Colonel Shaffer for you,” the agent stated, rising from his chair and gathering up his folder. “Goodbye, Mr. Matthews, Miss Perkins.”

“Good bye,” Paul and Emma said in near-unison.

The PEIP agent gave them a salute and exited the garden. A car door closing and engine starting a few seconds later signalled his departure.

They were alone. Really, truly alone. Not only were they alone, they were safe and secure, and they had each other.

Emma turned to Paul with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“What do you say we go exploring _our_ house?” she suggested.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Paul agreed, leaning down to kiss her soundly.

She giggled and grabbed his hand as they walked back inside, ideas already forming for how she wanted to decorate everything. While Paul brought all of their luggage inside the house and into the master bedroom, Emma sat on the bed, legs dangling, flipping through the furniture catalog and circling options with a permanent marker. Once he was done moving their things, he sat down on the edge of the bed, peering at her circles on the page.

“How about we look at this over some takeout? I don’t know about you, but that airport food seems like forever ago,” Paul said, his stomach growling loudly to prove his point.

“Yeah, I could go for some chinese food,” Emma replied.

“Okay, I’ll order some,” he said, kissing her cheek and leaving the room to find the kitchen and the takeout menus he was sure PEIP had provided them with.

Emma watched as he wearily walked down the hallway, a huge smile on her face. Yeah, she could get used to this pretty quickly. She closed the catalog and capped the marker. Grabbing her cane, she limped her way down the hall to find Paul in the kitchen and figure out what she wanted from the chinese place he’d found.

Maybe this wasn’t the Colorado life she’d initially dreamt for herself, but damn if it wasn’t a better one right now. Sitting in a half-furnished apartment with the man she never thought she’d fall for or even think she’d see again after all of the Apotheosis bullshit? Yeah, she was pretty fucking happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey folks, we're almost to the end, wow!! I know this chapter didn't have a /lot/ going on, but I promise this final one will have one last reunion of the whole gang and some sweet, sweet moments between Paul and Emma! As always, comments are great and I thrive on feedback! 
> 
> Hope to see you all back here one more time! :) 
> 
> ~Madi


	14. The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, this is it! This is also longer than any of the other chapters! 
> 
> Vague allusions to sexy-times towards the end.

Paul and Emma had a lazy morning the next day, staying in bed cuddling until Emma’s stomach protested loudly around eleven. 

“Should we get up then?” Paul teased, kissing her hair. 

Emma made a noncommittal noise and burrowed deeper into his side. 

“Come on, I’m hungry too, Em,” he chuckled, reaching for her waist, figuring she was ticklish there and willing to hedge his bets. 

She squealed at his touch and scooted out of his reach. “Okay fine! Fine, we can get up,” she said defeatedly. 

They both got out of the bed carefully, still cautious of their healing injuries. Paul followed Emma with her cane down the hall to the kitchen. He rummaged around, finding a box of Cheerios in the pantry and a gallon of milk in the fridge thanks to PEIP stocking the bare essentials for them until they made it to a grocery store. Over their gourmet cereal breakfast, they bickered about who got to shower first and what they were going to do today. Emma ended up winning the shower argument, with the concession that Paul would be sitting right outside the door in case she needed any help to assuage his worry for her safety. 

Paul read the news on his phone until he heard the water turn off. He blushed and cleared his throat when Emma opened the bathroom door clad only in her bath towel, a second one on her head covering her hair. She smirked at him and ushered him into the bathroom with her free hand. He left the door open a crack, like she had, and quickly turned the water back on and got in, wincing as the water seeped through his remaining bandages to his almost healed skin. 

When he was done, he exited with gym shorts on and wet hair, fresh bandages in his hands. Emma had gotten dressed while he was showering, thankfully, and had already wrapped her thigh. Paul caught Emma staring blatantly at his chest and felt the blush rise all the way to his face. He had worked out most days before the Apotheosis happened, sure, but now his whole torso was covered in a criss-cross of half-healed scars and yellowing bruises. 

“Uh, Em? Can you wrap me up, please? The doctor at HQ said I have to keep these on for another week or until the skin is all healed together,” he explained. 

“Sure, sit on the bed so I can reach,” she replied. 

He sat down, opening his legs at her nudge so she could reach around his back easier. Her fingers with the burn salve were cold on his skin, and he broke out into goosebumps. She went about it very methodically, making sure that the bandages were compressing like they were supposed to but not so much that it impeded his breathing. As she clipped the last end together, she tapped him lightly on the chin to get his attention. 

“All done, Paul. Now kiss me,” she said. 

She smiled into the kiss as he obliged, gently running her hands up and down his bandaged back. Paul closed his legs on her, trapping her in his embrace. Taking some initiative, he broke the kiss and started kissing down her neck, emboldened by the light scratching of her nails against his skin in response. 

“Trying to get into my pants there, Matthews?” 

He froze against her, suddenly self-conscious, even as he felt her laughing against him. 

“Paul, you’re such a fucking dork, it’s adorable.” 

Drawing back to see her face, Paul tried to come up with a witty response but couldn’t think of anything, just smiled sheepishly at Emma. She smiled back, and cupped his face with her hand. 

“I’m willing to work on that very, very slowly, all things considered. I think we’d both be better off starting as roomies who share a bedroom while we’re still recovering from all of this shit. What do you think?” she asked. 

“Okay, uh, yeah, that sounds good to me,” he answered. 

“Good! I’d still like to kiss you and hold your hand and shit though, if that’s okay with you,” she clarified. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s definitely okay,” he stuttered out. 

She chuckled and stole a quick kiss from him. Tapping him on the knee to release her, she took a step back and said, “Come on, I think we should finish picking out all of that furniture from the catalogs and then go see what everyone else is up to!” 

Paul smiled brightly at her and grabbed a shirt from the dresser, happy to follow her energy for the rest of the day, and happy to just be here, with her. 

Paul and Emma had a huge housewarming party with everyone after their furniture from the PEIP catalog came in, and they had easily settled back into the rapport they’d started forming with each other while everyone was recovering at PEIP HQ. Professor Hidgens had immediately agreed to the weekly dinner plans that Emma practically forced on him, but her joyous smile belied her bullying. Ted, Bill, and Paul decided they would get together every other week for drinks and board games. Emma even reconnected with Nora and Zoey, promising to apply for a position at the bookstore once her leg was strong enough for her to be on her feet more than a couple of hours each day. 

Physical therapy for both of them continued; Emma three times a week, Paul once a week. Sometimes there were bad days when the other would come home and find the other laying flat out on the couch, angry and frustrated from that day’s session. On those occasions, takeout was ordered and the Great British Bake Off--with low volume to minimize the music--was turned on the TV while they cuddled and ate their takeout. 

On schedule, the PEIP psychiatrist visited them a month after their move to check on them and how they were adjusting to their new lives and identities. They also gave their notice to General McNamara and Colonel Shaffer that, while they appreciated the offer to be outside consultants for PEIP, they much rather wanted to just move on with their lives and deal with the Apotheosis aftereffects in their own ways. The psychiatrist was pleased with their strength of communication with each other about what they needed from the other person, and also just in general. She told them that they actually communicated better than many of her married clients, which caused them both to blush and stammer nonsense for a good thirty seconds. Neither of them slept much that night, but made sure that her on-the-nose assessment of their relationship didn’t halt their progress in healing and moving forward. 

Six weeks into living in Colorado, Paul was cleared of needing physical therapy sessions, instead just given a list of exercises to do until the tension in his chest and back was gone. Emma baked him a set of muffins for the occasion, sticking a silly candle into one of them and making him blow it out to celebrate. They’d agreed the week prior that they could move the relationship marker from “roomies who share a bed” to “roomies who share a bed and are dating.” With that development, Paul was also rewarded with a delightful makeout session before bed that night, which Emma had not-so-secretly planned to have happen for at least a week.

Twelve weeks into their new life, Emma finished her physical therapy and no longer needed a cane to walk, but she still used it on the odd day when she felt fatigued in her bones. She started her biology classes at the local college the same week, so Paul made sure she felt loved and stress-free by meal prepping for her and keeping the house spotless. The expression on her face when she walked in the front door after her first full day of classes was something Paul wanted to keep seeing forever. He would have happily given her anything that night to please her; all she wanted was a deep back massage and warm cuddles, though, and he obliged. 

For Professor Hidgens’ birthday, Ted organized a surprise party for his close friend, with lots of help from Emma. Paul was honestly just happy to see how well Ted and Emma were getting along now, having realized they had similar senses of humor, and the fact that Ted had cleaned up his act somewhat promisingly. The surprise was so well-done that Hidgens nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned the living room lights on to find it full of people with party hats and streamers. Paul and Emma had helped Ted decorate and set up the apartment earlier in the day, so everyone else brought food and drinks. Melissa and Laura baked a cake, Bill and Alice brought chips, and Nora and Zoey crafted a delicious coffee treat bar that was empty within an hour of the party starting. Mr. Davidson and Carol even popped in for an hour, congratulating him on the birthday and also to catch up with his former employees. 

Seeing Hidgens so happy was new for Emma, and she had to take a few minutes alone in Ted’s room to be emotional where no one could see her. She still had to maintain her cool bitch aura, even if everyone knew she wasn’t actually like that at all. When she rejoined the party, Paul kissed the top of her head in acknowledgement but let her move on to chat with Alice and Melissa. Hidgens was overcome with emotions as everyone was there to celebrate his birthday, and to celebrate with him. He hadn’t had friends like that in many years, so this was definitely special for him. Once everyone was gone for the night, he gave Ted a big hug in thanks for organizing the party and for caring so much about him, regardless of how poor of a roommate he sometimes was. 

That party was the first of many parties and gatherings for this motley crew of former Hatchetfield residents. The family expanded with people from their community, but this was a very slow process, all things considered. Going through a musical apotheosis when you really fucking hate musicals means you’re cautious of everyone and everything, especially if the suggested outing involves loud music or even music of any kind. 

~*~*~*~Six Months Post-Apotheosis~*~*~*~

There was no music at any gathering of the Hatchetfield survivors for a long time, and none of them could bear listening to it in public for the first six months after the Apotheosis. Even though Paul and Emma both liked watching TV, they usually had it muted or on very low volume so they didn’t have to hear the background music most shows or commercials had. Professor Hidgens had even taken a break from his love of musical theater to let himself recover and work on healthier coping habits for when his biology research wasn’t going how he wanted it to be. Bill had bought Alice some very nice noise-cancelling headphones, which she took into school with a doctor’s note to say she could wear them whenever she needed as long as her learning wasn’t being hindered. 

Nearly six months into living in Colorado and being in the state of “roomies who share a bed and occasionally kiss,” Emma sat Paul down and said she was willing to update the terms of their living arrangement slash relationship. 

“Hey Paul, can I talk to you for a sec or are you busy coding?” Emma peeked her head around the corner into the living room.

Paul looked up from his laptop and smiled. “No, I’m at a good stopping point. What’s up, Em?” 

She sat down on the far end of the couch from him, hands fidgeting in her lap. Paul closed his laptop and set it down on the coffee table, giving her his full attention. 

“So, uh, you know how when we first moved here I wanted us to just kind of live together without being all couple-y about it?” she paused to clear her throat. “Well now that it’s been a few months and we’re both settled into work and school and we have our routines, I, um, wanted to talk to you about changing the terms of our agreement.” 

“Okay jeez, Emma, just say you want to actually date me and get it over with already,” Paul said bluntly, shocking her. 

“Wow Paul, how long have you been holding that in for?” she jabbed back, grinning. 

“Honestly not that long, I just gotta one-up your bluntness every once in a while, right?” he said, giving her a cheeky grin, even though he was bright red.

She waved a hand dismissively at him. “Yeah, yeah, like that’ll be a regular occurrence.” 

“Hey you never know! Maybe you’re starting to lose your touch.” 

“Doubtful. But anyway, back to the topic of our relationship, please?” 

Paul reached for her hand and pulled her into him when she grabbed it. She looked up into his eyes and smiled widely, mirroring his expression. Shifting so she was more comfortably draped across his lap, Emma intertwined their fingers and kissed each of Paul’s. He responded by pulling her head up with his free hand to capture her lips in a fierce kiss. 

The fire in her belly that had cooled during their recovery at PEIP HQ and the initial adjustment period got a gush of lighter fluid and started blazing. She’d refused to even think about this type of thing with Paul until both of them were fully recovered physically after the second round of injuries had been much more severe than the ones their fiery helicopter crash had given them. Now that they were healed though, hell, even stronger than before the Apotheosis thanks to bi-weekly hikes in the mountains, she was more than ready to start thinking about this. His nipping of her lower lip stopped her train of thought and brought her back to the feel of him against her in the present. 

They stayed kissing and touching each other on the couch for a while, or at least until both of their backs started to hurt from the awkward angles.  _ The curse of being in your early thirties _ , Emma thought when they broke apart, both of their faces flushed and pupils wide. Paul rubbed soothing circles into her back as she sat up. 

“Okay note to self, don’t be stupid and makeout in that position again, it sucks,” she said jovially. 

“Noted,” he laughed, leaning to kiss her once more. 

“Come on, let’s have some dinner and plan this garden party you were talking about yesterday,” Emma said, jumping up from the couch and pulling him into the kitchen. 

“Okay, okay, but you’re in charge of baking the rolls tonight, I fucked them up the last time,” Paul replied. 

“Deal, now let’s go, I’m hungry and I can’t plan a party on an empty stomach.” 

They decided to host a garden party to celebrate six months of surviving the Apotheosis, though of course they disguised it as a party to celebrate being in their house and in Colorado for six months, and also the development of their relationship into a fully romantic one. When they got home from the grocery store one night, there was a medium-sized delivery box sitting on the front porch. Paul hefted it inside and opened it on the kitchen table. It was a gift from General McNamara and Colonel Shaffer, acknowledging their adjustment into their new lives and their home. Emma proudly displayed the gorgeous piece of abstract metal artwork on the dining room table, and their PEIP-issued civilian medals of honor were placed in the master bedroom on top of the dresser. 

The garden party was a roaring success. Everyone got to dress up a little fancy and show off their clothes, and the food that Emma prepared--with some help from Paul--was amazing. She’d grown into having her own kitchen, and Paul often came home from work to find her working with some new recipe that she wanted to try out. The big winner at the garden party was Alice -- she’d started seeing a girl at her high school, and she brought her along as her date. Bill was so happy for his daughter that Paul made sure he was occupied with some conversation or other so he wouldn’t be overwhelming to Bea and Alice. Hidgens showed up a little bit late, so in true Emma fashion, she made him a big plate of food and sat with him while he ate it, interrogating him all the while about his students and research at the university. Everyone enjoyed themselves immensely.

As soon as all of their guests were gone and the initial clean-up stage was over, Paul shuttled Emma off to their bedroom to sleep while he finished the dishes and other odd cleaning bits. She protested but she was no match for his strength and the fatigue in her eyes was apparent. When Paul checked on her fifteen minutes later to drop dirty towels in the hamper, she was already fast asleep. Yeah, he could definitely get used to doing things like this with her for a long time to come.

~*~*~*~Ten Months Post-Apotheosis~*~*~*~

While they’d agreed to start officially dating four months ago, Paul had been hesitant to move forward very quickly with the physical aspect of their relationship. Sure, they shared a bed and kissed and done all that kind of thing, but he had yet to take the plunge and step forward one more time. Emma had been hinting weird things to him lately, and he wasn’t sure if it was her wanting to have sex or if it was her just being her usual weird self. Either way, Paul made an effort to connect with her more through physical contact, wanting to ensure she was feeling loved enough throughout the week. He decided halfway through his shift on Thursday that it was time to grow a pair and just go with the flow and whatever she wanted from him that weekend, including the big leap. 

Friday finally came, and boy was it a rough one. Paul got home from work at the accounting firm just before six o’clock, having gotten stuck in traffic. He trudged up their front steps, suit jacket folded over one arm. His keys jingled as he found the house key and unlocked the front door. Stepping inside, he called out for Emma, not sure if she was home or not. 

“Bedroom!” came a shout from down the hall. 

He slid his shoes off and set them in the front closet, dropping his keys into the bowl on the stand off to the side of the foyer. His work bag was put down by the couch in the living room, and then he was on his way to Emma’s voice. 

The door was cracked open, so he pushed it all the way open to see Emma up to her neck under the covers, a smirk on her face. 

“Hey, Em,” Paul said slowly, trying to figure out what she was up to. “Are you hungry? I was going to make tacos.” 

She hummed noncommittally and moved her hand under the blankets to motion him to get in. He rolled his eyes and hung his suit jacket up in the closet first, then crawled under the covers to join her, still in his work clothes and tie. She moved to spoon with him, and he was surprised to feel less fabric than he was used to when he came home to her laying in bed.  _ Was that satin? _ He questioned in his head as he automatically wrapped an arm around her waist, the slippery material sliding smoothly against his skin. Emma pushed herself into him more, grinding up against him and letting out a throaty chuckle when he groaned, knowing exactly the kind of game she was trying to play with him. 

“Em, come on, we need to eat dinner. Did you even have lunch today?” 

“Yes, I had the last of the pesto, thankyouverymuch!” she exclaimed, indignant. “Why can’t dinner wait just a bit longer, I’ve been wanting to be held by you all day, it’s been  _ terrible _ .” 

Another roll of her hips emphasized her point, and Paul could feel his resolve waning. “I know, your thirty texts after my lunch break made that very obvious to me.” 

“Hey, there wouldn’t have been thirty if you had just texted back after the first three.” 

“I was working!”

“So was I!”

“Studying in the campus library doesn’t count as working because you’re the boss of yourself and can’t get in trouble for texting, Em.” 

“Touche, but you still could have texted me back.” 

“Let’s agree to disagree.” 

“Fine.” 

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” 

Emma laughed and turned so they were face to face, knees knocking into his. She pulled on his tie with her hand to pull his face closer to hers. “Just kiss me already, you weirdo.”

Paul smiled and captured her lips with his, feeling the tension of the workday oozing out of him as they kissed. She hooked a leg over his hip, enjoying the stutter-gasp he let out at the sudden change in position. His hand explored the length of her leg, finding a comfortable resting spot on the back of her upper thigh. Her kisses became needier, and she pulled off his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt, even as she pressed herself against him. 

They broke apart to get his shirt off all the way, and his belt went with it. If Emma had her way, they’d both have been naked already. She wanted Paul to feel comfortable the whole time though, so she went slower with the removal of clothing. Her satin short pajama set was something she’d picked up on a whim a few weeks ago, and now she was very happy she had it, and that she’d thought to put it on before Paul got home from work. 

“Jeez, Em. Should I just take my pants off now and avoid the hassle later?” Paul asked breathlessly. 

She laughed, “Yes babe, they are kind of impeding basically everything I want to do to you right now.” 

He surged in for a kiss before shimmying out of his pants and peeling off his socks rather awkwardly under the sheets, leaving himself clad in just his boxer briefs. Emma took a minute to appreciate him in all his strong paleness and then reached for him. Paul took her in his arms, and everything settled into place. 

When he woke up later, the sun was just disappearing over the horizon, casting the bedroom in a golden haze. He looked down at the sleeping form next to him, her brown hair glowing in the setting sun. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. They kissed briefly before their stomachs protested for dinner. 

Breaking the silence, he chuckled and lightly tapped her sides. “I guess we should have those tacos I was talking about earlier, huh?” 

Emma mumbled her agreement. “You better make it fast though, because we aren’t finished here yet, Matthews.” 

Paul’s stomach dropped in an agreeable way. Leaning down for a rough kiss, he nipped her lip before pulling out of her reach. “Noted, Perkins.” 

She laughed and crawled out of bed after him, both of them dressing quickly in comfortable clothes. Dinner was a simple affair, filled with rude jokes by Emma and more spluttering on Paul’s part than he’d done in months. Needless to say, once their friends figured out what had changed between them, the rude jokes were shared by all, and eventually Paul started dishing them right back. 

Late one night as they were watching a silent movie in the living room, Emma fast asleep against Paul’s side, he thought about the journey all of them had been on in the past year. 

He used to think he was just a guy who didn’t like musicals. Now that he had Emma, though, and he’d opened up to the rest of their motley crew as they settled in Boulder, he realized he was so much more than that. The Hatchetfield catastrophe had taken a lot from all of them, but it gave them a hell of a lot to live for, too. For that, he was grateful. 

The guy who didn’t like musicals still didn’t like them, but he also didn’t live in Hatchetfield anymore, and he had a better life than he could have imagined for himself. Sure, an almost-world ending Apotheosis had been the kickstart to all of this, but it was only the beginning; the end of this story was far off into the distant future. Happiness is inevitable, if you just keep pushing forward and take a few leaps of faith here and there without the fear of falling. 

_ The greatest stories ever told have a hero who must be bold _

_ They learn a sense of right and wrong and better learn this sense from song _

The Hatchetfield Apotheosis was officially over. Paul was, and still is, The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow. This is it, y'all. You've finished my first ever TGWDLM fic, and I along with you! This has definitely been a journey to write (never did I think it would get to be so big and unwieldy) and I've enjoyed it immensely! 
> 
> If you have any ideas you'd like me to try my hand at please just let me know in a comment! Feedback is the best :) 
> 
> Thanks so much to those of you who've been here through the whole journey and those of you stopping by now! <3
> 
> ~Madi


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